Wrongful Imprisonment
by Thoughts And Pondering
Summary: AU James Potter was in Azkaban,wrongly convicted with the murder of Lily. Fourteen years later, in the light of recent revelations, the Ministry found him innocent, and released him. Is he still sane? What about Harry? Takes place during OOTP.
1. Too Many Mistakes

A/N: This is a continuation of my one-shot, Only In Fairy Tales. You don't have to read that to understand this, but hey, it would help the process greatly. Since I already have two stories in progress, if not that many people interested, updates will be VERY slow indeed. But the reviews in Only In Fairy Tales inspired me to write this. I'll try and not let this slow updates on the other two. I posted a recap, to clarify what happened in this universe, especially if you didn't read Only in Fairy Tales.

Also, in this story, Fudge was the Minister of Magic when James died, where he in PoA he says he isn't.

Summary: AU- James Potter was in Azkaban, wrongly convicted with the murder of Lily. Fourteen years later, in the light of Voldemort's return, the Ministry found him innocent, and released him. Is he still sane? What about Harry? Takes place during OOTP.

Disclaimer: This counts for the whole story, so I will only tell you once, I don't own Harry Potter.

**Edit: Made a few small changes. Mostly grammatical.**

**Wrongful Imprisonment: **

**That's The Way The World Is Now**

**Chapter One: Too Many Mistakes**

_Recap: When Voldemort attacked the Potters, James was merely knocked unconscious (Not by Avada Kedavra), but Voldemort thought he died. He then went onto kill Lily, with James's wand, since his own got snapped in the fight. As you all know, when he tried to attack Harry the curse rebounded on him instead. The force of this spell caused the house to explode._

_  
When Sirius came to check on the Potters, after realising that Peter was no longer hiding, he saw James's body next to Lily, and thought he was dead as well. He then spotted Harry, and when Hagrid turned up, Sirius let Hagrid take him, and then went to find Peter to get his revenge. _

_Three Ministry Aurors turned up an hour later, with Cornelius Fudge, after being notified of the attack by Dumbledore. They had noticed what the others had not, and realised that James was in fact was not dead. Fudge was now stuck, since he had informed the world that James and Lily had died, but Harry had lived and Voldemort was dead. Since Voldemort had not left a body, he decided to clear up his mistake and instead accuse James of the attack. There was actually no proof that Voldemort had been involved at all. _

_Cornelius Fudge also thought James to be a threat to him, since he knew the truth about what was really going on between him and Lucius Malfoy. Money could speak all languages, but it wasn't only a matter of money…it was far more complicated than that. He then discovered James's wand and little did he know this discovery would actually back his claim. _

_This didn't make much sense on their part, since they told the world that Voldemort had killed them both. But they never intended for it to get out. However…one of these Aurors was a young Kingsley Shacklebolt. _

_James got a private 'trial' with Fudge and the three Aurors. He let have James have one person speak on his defense. He chose Dumbledore. He then got thrown into Azkaban after Fudge performed Prior Icantato. The three Aurors strongly objected to this, but Fudge threatened them with their jobs if they didn't co-operate. _

_Afterwards, Fudge obliviated the Auror's minds. He didn't need this mistake to get out, especially since he had only been appointed Minister for a little while. Dumbledore wouldn't tell anyone. Who would believe him if he did? _

_When Sirius caught up with Peter, Peter also thought that James had killed Lily, but then Voldemort turned up on his word killed James, and attempted to kill Harry. But he was also wrong. _

_If only the Ministry knew how much more complicated they were making everything…_

Sirius Black was talking to Albus Dumbledore in the kitchen in Grimmauld Place, 'Order business' he had told him.

The only business he was able to do for the Order was clean the house and cook, and what was the point of that, when they could eat Molly's heavenly cooking?

And as for cleaning the house, he wasn't a housemaid. Next time Dumbledore might ask him to don a little black and white dress and wear one of those little odd hats. And besides, Hermione and Ron were getting a kick out of doing that. Well, not really, it just relieved them of boredom. What else would you do in a house over run with cobwebs, and where weird creatures had infested every corner of the house. Why not clean the windows, when they were so grimy that no sunlight was able to battle its way in?

He and Albus hadn't being doing much, just exchanging the usual pleasantries. Then his second cousin, Nypmhadora Tonks, came. He could tell before she had entered the kitchen, because she had tripped over the troll leg, making the portrait of his mother start shouting again.

She ran into the kitchen, waving a copy of the Daily Prophet. Her usually pink hair, had turned back to it's natrual brown colour, as it usually did if she was upset or shocked.

"You're not going to believe what happened!" She exclaimed, puffing as if she had run the whole way to the house. She kept waving the paper madly in the air above her head.

"What, have Muggles discovered the magical world?" Sirius asked, leaning back in his chair like he used to in his school days.

"I wish they did." Tonks sighed. "It's worse." She still didn't stop waving the paper frantically around.

"The whole Muggle world has exploded, showing many brilliant and previously undiscoveredcolours to the world?"

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Be serious." She said. The waving of the paper slowed down, and she dropped it on the table in front of Sirius.

"I already am." Sirius took a sip of his coffee, and leaned forward to read the paper. He immediately spit it out, not only because the Weasley twins had switched the salt and sugar again, causing a very disgusting coffee, but because of the headline on the front page.

**James Potter Alive: The Ministry Has Been** **Lying To Us. **

"Do you get what I mean now?" Tonks asked, distraught. "This is going to cause major confliction in the Wizarding World."

Sirius shook his head in disbelief, and slid out of his chair. "James." He whispered silently to himself. "Prongs. There's no way…absolutely no way…they lied…THEY LIED? How can you pretend someone's dead? I saw his body! I saw it! Damn it, Dumbledore, I saw it!" He stood up and reclaimed his seat, casting a quick cleaning charm to rid his robes of the coffee stain.

Dumbledore merely remained silent.

Sirius and Tonks turned to look at him. He cupped his hands. "I should have known. Kingsley Shacklebolt came to me, and told me he was having trouble remembering things. I discovered he was under several memory charms. They weren't very strong, cast by an average wizard. I removed the blocks, and he thanked me and left. He was one of the Aurors dispatched to Lily and James's the night they died."

Sirius was confused. He ran a hand through his shaggy black hair, and then rubbed his chin. "What does that have to do with anything?" he asked.

"James Potter has been in Azkaban for the past fourteen years." Dumbledore finally admitted.

Sirius did a double take. He looked at Dumbledore's face. There was no sign of a twinkle behind those half-moon glasses. There was no hint of humor in the old man's face.

"You mean…" Sirius's voice broke, "You mean…you knew my best friend spent fourteen years in Azkaban! And you didn't do a thing about it?"

"I--" Dumbledore started, not looking Sirius in the face.

"You what? You couldn't do anything about it? No one would believe you? Oh…wait…I know where this is going…you thought he was guilty too! Just like you did with me! Wait…what was he convicted for?" Sirius shouted in disbelief. This was probably just another one of those horrible reoccurring nightmares he had since he had left Azkaban. Even though, he felt a twinge of hope. He squashed it down ruthlessly. It was a horrible thought anyway. You were better off dead than in that hellhole.

He ought to know.

"The murder of Lily Potter."

Tonks quickly found a chair. "It doesn't say that in the article…" She said, quickly looking interested in Sirius's salty coffee. "In the article all it says is that Prior Incantato was cast on his wand, and he was convicted." She said shakily, "It never says what for. That doesn't even make sense! You don't just go killing people you love. You marry people because you love them, not because you wish them dead. I guess that's the way the world is now…" Tonks face went white, and she clutched the edges of the paper.

Sirius felt like the world like he knew it was falling apart. James? Murder Lily? James had been infatuated with her since the first time he ever saw her. Thanks to James, Sirius could say he believed in love at first sight. It had been, for one party anyway.

A baboon would have known that James couldn't have killed Lily. His hatred of Fudge increased tenfold. That manipulative bastard was worse than Voldemort. If Fudge had been in the room at the moment, he would've given Sirius a reason for being sent to Azkaban.

He'd always wondered if he could ever cast the Avada Kedavra curse. He now knew the answer to that question. Or maybe he'd just throttle Fudge with his bare hands. He couldn't think of anyone who would deserve it more.

Not even Peter Pettigrew.

Sirius resisted the urge to jump out of his chair and start trashing everything in reach. "When do we get to see him?" he asked.

"According to the article," Dumbledore said, the paper in his hands, "He was released yesterday and is now in St. Mungo's under-going psychiatric assessment with some Healers and the Ministry."

Sirius's face darkened at the thought of the Ministry. "We can't leave him with them. Fudge will come and think of some other trumped excuse to make sure he never gets in his way."

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "Actually, Sirius, Cornelius Fudge is no longer Minister of Magic."

Sirius immediately punched himself in the eye, and buckled over in pain, clutching at his right eye. "Crap…that hurt…I have to wake up…this is just some horrible nightmare…so who's with him now?"

"Kingsley Shacklebolt, he was the one who told the Ministry about what Fudge did. The Ministry decided they couldn't trust Fudge anymore, and voted him out of office."

"They can do that?" Sirius asked, punching the wall behind his chair. He scraped his knuckles and grimaced with pain. "Yep." He declared with his mouth in a straight line, "Definitely hurts."

Tonks looked at him with concern. "What the hell did you do that for? Are you feeling alright?" she asked, patting him on the back reassuringly.

"Yes, I'm feeling fine thank-you. I've just found out my best friend has been in Azkaban for even longer than I had, and is not actually dead at all. I've also found out that Fudge is an even bigger bastard then I previously thought. I also found out that Dumbledore's been lying to Harry even more than I have previously thought. I wonder what this is going to do to Harry. He's not exactly singing Fudge's praises either. Dumbledore, we need to tell Harry." Sirius finished angrily, pounding his fists on the kitchen table, upturning the cup of salty coffee. His right eye was now swelling slightly.

Dumbledore looked at Sirius over his half-moon glasses. "I don't believe we should tell him until he is ready."

Sirius exploded. "THAT'S YOUR EXCUSE FOR EVERYTHING, ISN'T IT? 'WAIT UNTIL HE'S READY!' WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO DECIDE HE'S READY? WHEN HE'S ON HIS DEATHBED? WHEN HE'S _DEAD? _WHEN VOLDEMORT TAKES OVER THE WHOLE BLOODY WORLD? WHO ARE YOU TO KNOW IF HE'S READY? ISN'T THAT A QUESTION YOU SHOULD ASK HIM?" Sirius felt himself stand up and raise his fists. He didn't care if he punched Dumbledore right on his 'wait 'til it's ready' face.

"Sirius," Tonks stated, standing up. "Calm down." She then turned to Dumbledore. "Why didn't you tell us this before…no…why didn't you tell Harry before?" She had managed to turn her hair pink again during their argument.

"Enough of this!" Sirius exclaimed. "I have to see James. Right now."

"What are you going to do, Sirius? Barge in and declare you have to see James? They'll send _you _back to Azkaban!" Tonks exclaimed.

"I guess I can't." Sirius said, sagging in his wooden chair. "But why don't you get some of the Order members to go retrieve Harry so they can get him there pronto?"

There was a pecking noise at the kitchen window. Through the grime, Sirius could see the outline of Harry's owl, Hedwig. He stood up, glad at the interruption. He opened the parchment, and saw the words penned upon it and paled.

_Dear Sirius,_

_What exactly did the front page of the Daily Prophet mean? Is there something else you're keeping from me? _

_From, _

_Harry. _

Sirius turned around and dropped the letter on the table. Dumbledore and Tonks leant over to read it.

"It looks like Harry might be one step ahead of us." He announced, shakily. "Guess there's no hiding from the truth now…"

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So what do you think? I'm sorry the name of the story isn't very good. I just couldn't think of one. That's unusual for me, 'cause I usually think of the title first, than have to write a story to fit it! Okay, please review if you ever want to see me update this story again. Remember updates may not be so quick because of my other stories, but anyway…review!

'til next time,

Thoughts And Pondering.


	2. Not In This Nightmare

Wrongful Imprisonment:

That's The Way The World Is Now

A/N: If you're wondering, that's the full title of this story, the document stuffed up last chapter, and put up the un-edited version…not that there was that many differences, just a couple of grammar changes…also my document manager is stuffing up yet again! Man I wish I had a computer that WORKED!

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Anyway, I got reviews! Does happy little dance

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Chapter Two: Not In This Nightmare

Remus Lupin arrived at the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, after staying at home due to a certain monthly affliction. When he entered the kitchen, he may have not expected a _party, _but he definitely didn't expect to see Sirius, Dumbledore and Tonks sitting in the kitchen, looking so gloomy he thought that someone had died. Sirius right eye was swollen, and looked like it certainly would bruise in the morning.

Dumbledore had looked as serious as ever, and for once, the part of his head that sounded remarkably like Sirius didn't make an awful pun out of it.

Tonks was the calmest of the lot. She had been sitting in one of the wooden kitchen chairs next to the windowsill, sipping a cup of tea, and wiping the window with the sleeve of her robe, with the hope of beckoning some sunlight in. When Remus walked into the room, all she did was look him straight in the eye, and tell him that he shouldn't use any sugar.

Dumbledore suddenly stood up, and said he was going to announce an emergency meeting for the Order of the Phoenix.

A couple of phoenix and telephone calls later, Dumbledore had everyone who was able to come to the unplanned meeting.

The aged wizard walked to the head of the table and announced, "This meeting of the Order of the Phoenix will now come to order." He cupped his hands and sat down in the hard wooden kitchen chair.

Tonks batted the sugar bowl back and forth across the table. Dumbledore looked at her. She looked up, and realised." Sorry." She said apologetically. "I just want to warn everyone that this," she said, picking up the sugar bowl and holding it next to her pink, spiky hair, "is salt."

Mad-Eye Moody relieved Tonks of the sugar bowl and went to the salt shakers and shook some into the makings of his coffee. He looked at the salt shaker curiously with his one magical eye.

"Um...I don't think you should use that!" Tonks exclaimed loudly.

Moody's magical eye whizzed around and Tonks found herself on the receiving end of the electric blue eye's stare. "Why?" Moody asked gruffly, his many scars making him look very intimidating.

"I never said that that was sugar in the salt shaker."

"Humph. I knew there was something dodgy about this sugar." Moody placed the salt shaker back on the table. His eye whizzed back to looking out the back of his head.

"Order, Order. How many of you have read the _Daily Prophet _this morning?" Dumbledore asked the members. Some of them turned and looked at each other. A few answered quietly in the affirmative.

Dumbledore looked at them over his half-moon glasses. "For you who have not, there is copy of the paper on the table. For you who have, I am pretty sure you know what I am talking about."

"James Potter!" Squealed a witch in a purple robe, with black hair and pink cheeks.

"Correct, Miss Jones. That's why I'm sending both Mr. Lupin and Miss Tonks to Mr. Potter's house to pick him up."

"What! What about James? He died fourteen years ago! Why do you have to bring this up? " Remus asked, standing so quickly it caused another tear in his robes that would need patching.

"_James Potter Alive: The Ministry Has Been Lying to Us?" _Minerva McGonagall asked, reading the headline on the front page. "What does this mean, Albus? How…?" Her eyes looked curiously up to Albus, as if she thought the answer would be written there in big, black, loopy letters.

Remus looked out the window. On days when you received horrible news, it was meant to be grey and gloomy, with lots of rain and the occasional thunderstorm.

The sun outside was mocking him. It was warm for a late summer afternoon.

"The question is not how, Minerva, it is…"

"Why the hell this happened to _us!" _Sirius interrupted one hand on his swollen eye.

There was a sudden intake of breath. No body had ever dared to interrupt the _great _Albus Dumbledore before. The room was silent. Remus took advantage of this peacetime to look at the paper. He started to read.

He learnt that it was quite the oppisite of someone dying. Rather, that one of his best friends had spent fourteen years in Azkaban. His first thought was, _Ha! This is preposterous! Next the Daily Prophet's going to say that I _grew u_p in Azkaban! _

But for once, article spoke the truth. Probably the first time in the newspaper's history. Remus thought they should get a medal. A nice shiny, gold one.

Remus was in disbelief. He looked out the clean part of the window. When you were feeling sad or unhappy, wasn't it meant to be a grey and rainy day, and thunder storming? Sirius stood up and declared loudly, "This is just some screwed up dream that all of us are having at the same time! If we're lucky, we'll wake up and it'll be  
yesterday. If we're even luckier, we'll wake up and realise that the past fourteen years have actually never happened!" Sirius told them, rubbing a chin with a non-existent beard.

Remus would have loved to believe in that theory, but he didn't believe in dreams. None of his dreams ever came true. Only his nightmares.

"Alright I'll do it."

There was some banging and whispering heard from outside the door. "James? Harry's father?" someone asked loudly.

"Ron! You'll get us heard!" said a shrill voice, louder than the last.

"And that won't?" asked the first voice, slightly miffed.

"It doesn't matter since they've already heard us!" The second voice retorted.

"Thanks to you."

"Actually it was you."

"Does it _matter?_"

"If you were listening, I already said it didn't!"

"Great, now you're making enough noise I'm surprised the whole bloody street hasn't heard by now!"

"It doesn't matter!"

"You've already told me that."

"So?"

"I don't need it repeated, I'm not stupid!"

"You're doing a very good job of it."

Remus thought it was time to break up this argument. He knew from experience it would just end up going around in circles. So he opened the door.

"I told you so." Hermione Granger turned to glare at Ron Weasley. They both had fleshy string falling out of their ears. Ron rolled his eyes, making them look up to his fire red hair.

"You were eavesdropping again, weren't you?" Remus asked sternly, his hands on his hips.

"Professor Lupin, we're sorry…we just heard Harry's name, and couldn't resist."

"How many times do I have to ask you to call me Remus. I am no longer your professor." Remus sighed. _But I wish I could be. But wishing doesn't get you anywhere. At least it never did for me…_Remus felt suddenly older, and felt like bolting up the stairs and sleeping forever. _And I think I have a lot of gray hairs…maybe I should grow a moustache…No. Just no. Think about how odd it would look! _

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed. Nervously sweeping back some strands of bushy brown hair she said, "But I think we should tell Harry, at the very least."

"He already knows." Remus replied. This seemed more and more like a nightmare every second. Although he didn't think punching himself would solve the problem. "Tonks and I are going to retrieve him and take him to see his father."

"I don't think that's a good idea. What do you think, Ron?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders. He stood there in his maroon jumper for a while and answered, "I dunno. It might be a good idea. By the sound of his letters he doesn't seem very happy. He thinks we're keeping things from him."

"Dumbledore's decided. We're going to see him, at the very least, and try to explain it even more.

So he agreed to go with Tonks, to retrieve Harry. To prove to himself this wasn't some sort of weird fairy tale, written by some weird muggle at one of those 'computer' things.

Tonks came, holding two brooms in her hand. One of them was her own Cleansweep. One of them was one of the Hogwarts' brooms, an Oak 400, at least a hundred years old, and looked like some three-year old had Spello taped a few odd twigs together. She turned to Remus, and threw the Oak 400 at him. He caught it easily.

So he stood in the front hall of the Noble and Ancient House of Black, praying that the broom would actually lift him up in the air, and if he was lucky, take him to Privet Drive and back.

But Remus wasn't a very lucky person. Weren't the events of his life enough proof of that? How many people had been afflicted with lycanthropy, how many people had had their best friends and family die in the past fourteen years? Who else thought that Fate thought it her personal mission to screw their life over as much as possible?

Of course, none of his best friends had ever died. It was one thing to find out Peter was alive, but it was something entirely different with James.

Well, he guessed he could count Lily. She wasn't going to make an unexpected return from the dead soon, well at least not in this certain nightmare.

"Safe journey, alright?" Ron told them, his freckled face seeming even redder in the afternoon sun.

"Well with luck, neither of us will end up dead." Remus answered shortly. He hated heights. He'd never told anyone before though, and he didn't intend to start now.

"Stop being so cynical, Remus, the world hasn't ended…yet." Tonks said sadly. "It's in your best interest to remain optimistic, and everything's going to be better isn't it? You lived twelve years of your life thinking two of your best friends were dead, and one might as well be. You were all alone. Now, everything's changed. You can be together again. You have to start accepting people back in your life. What did you want to do? Become a recluse and eat fried daffodils for the rest of your life? "

Remus smiled weakly at the daffodils, but then sighed. "But we can't. Because of Peter. He betrayed James."

Tonks looked at him, her now blue eyes looking at Remus's. "Truth can be stranger than fiction, and as in good fiction, don't be surprised if all the twists aren't released until the very end."

"Tonks, when did you start analyzing your life like a book?" Remus asked curiously.

Tonks waved the question aside. "Think about it. No one's dead."

"What about Lily?"

"After all I've heard I wouldn't be surprised if she just popped up one day, and knocked on the door, and yelled, 'SURPRISE!' But it's not going to happen in this nightmare."

"That's what I thought."

"And this is even worse for the Ministry. Now the majority have voted Fudge out of office, the Ministry is in chaos." Tonks wrinkled her nose, accidentally changing it to be a bit more like Remus's.

"I think we should get flying today, if we hope to get anywhere by midnight." Remus declared, mounting his broom.

She went to Remus and cast the Disillusionment Charm on him. Remus felt like someone had cracked and egg on his head, and it was trickling down his back.

Tonks cast the charm on herself, and they were set.

"Yeah…and while we're flying, I'll give you something to think about. Who said people can't come back to life?" Tonks asked Remus.

They went into the back garden.

"Three…two…one…LIFTOFF!" Tonks yelled, sounding like a Muggle child watching a rocket countdown.

It was an amazing feeling, being up near the clouds. They looked like huge, foamy marshmallows, though he didn't want to go through one. He didn't like to get completely soaked while broom flying. He managed not to remind himself not to look down, knowing that such a reminder would cause him to the exact oppisite. There wasn't much to do, so he pondered Tonks' question.

He remembered the day when he learnt the meaning of the word dead.

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Flashback:

His mother had been crying for hours, after the big, snowy owl had flown in.

Remus asked his father why his mum was crying.

He didn't like to see her cry.

His father sat Remus on his lap, and hugged him, and told him his grandmother had died in her sleep last night. When Remus asked his dad what dead meant, he wouldn't tell him. All his dad told him was that he'd understand when he was older.

Remus wasn't going to take that for an answer.

So Remus went to the tall bookshelf in his dad's study. Standing on his dad's office chair, the Muggle kind with wheels on it, he made a reach for the dictionary. It was nearly up the top, and covered with inches of dust.

He took it down and sat at his dad's desk. He traced a finger through the dust, collecting it all on the tip of his finger. His father had taught him how to use a dictionary a month earlier.

**He flipped through to the letter d. **

**The first word he saw was dab. Dab: 1. To touch or pat lightly and quickly.**

**That was all well and good, but it wasn't the word he was looking for. Flipping to the next page, he felt the tip of his left thumb sting. He had given himself a paper cut. He put his thumb in his mouth and sucked it as he flipped over the next page. **

**About three page-flippings later, Remus reached the word. D-E-A-D. **

**Dead: 1. No longer alive. **

**Remus's lower lip trembled. Did this mean he'd never get to eat Grandma's cookies again? No more hugs from Grandma? No more Grandma? He sat there, crying, until his father found him there an hour later, sucking his thumb. **

**End Flashback. **

Remus shook his head. He had only been six at the time, but he seemed to understand perfectly.

"Get ready to LAND!" Tonks shouted excitedly, "AAH! My T-shirt whacked me in the face!

Remus saw the house and steeled himself for landing. "You're getting a real kick out of this, aren't you?" he asked the space where Tonks should be.

"Yep, there's nothing like being up in the air!"

Tonks and Remus hit the footpath, Tonks lost her balance and fell over. She cursed under her breath as she got up. She took the Disillusionment charm off them both.

"So, what do we do now?" Remus asked.

"I dunno, knock on the door?" Tonks replied, dusting down her robes.

"If we're going to do that, you should do something about your hair."

"What about my hair?" Tonks asked, offended.

"Harry's relatives don't like weird things." Remus answered truthfully. He looked at the surroundings. A few parched gardens, a few sweaty residents, a lot of dehydrated birds, an owl or two.

"So now you're calling my hair 'weird'. Fine." Tonks concentrated, turning her hair into bushy brown curls that could rival Hermione's.

"What now?" Remus asked, turning so he faced Tonks. She swept a strand of bushy brown hair out of her face, and replied.

"We knock on the door, or wait for your moustache to grow." Seeing Remus's glare, she answered, "Lighten up Remus, it was a joke!"

"Wait…" Remus started, but it was too late. Tonks had made her way to the front door and had already knocked on it four times. He ran to catch up to her, nearly falling over his own feet, slightly disorientated from the flight.

Someone on the other side opened the door. "Yes?" they asked snappishly, opening the door only a crack. "What do you want?"

Remus and Tonks exchanged glances. Why hadn't they thought of a plan? Tonks improvised on the spot. "We're doing a survey on black-haired, green-eyed boys. We heard you had a child who fitted our description. We were wondering if we could take him up to our lab to undergo some tests."

Remus groaned. She obviously didn't have a lot of skill in the area of excuse making.

"You're one of _his _kind, aren't you?" The lady asked, looking Remus up and down. Remus looked to where she was looking, and realised with horror that he'd forgotten to take off his frayed robe.

"Yes." Remus sighed at the same moment Tonks answered, "No."

The lady glared at her skeptically. "Don't lie to me. You're here to see _him, _aren't you."

"Yes, that we are."

"Alright. You can come in. But you must go straight to his room, and be gone before my husband comes home.

Tonks' eyebrows rose. "She has a husband?" She whispered to Remus, her eyes going wide.

They both bolted up the stairs and into the room with the closed door, which must be Harry's.

Remus knocked on the bedroom door. He took a few seconds to look up and down the hallway. There was a lot of pictures of a big, coloured, balloon, but none of Harry.

These people must be really obsessed with balloons.

A few seconds later, the door was opened. Harry Potter stood in the doorway, wearing a baggy gray T-shirt and jeans way too long for him.

"Professor Lupin! You came!"

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Next chapter is when we get too meet James. Yay! I've written a little bit of a plot outline for this. I can't believe I've written three thousand words. Just couldn't stop writing, huh? When I update this story depends on YOU! You read, you review, I don't care how long it is. (Though long is good!)

Anyway, thanks everyone!

'Til next time,

Thoughts And Pondering


	3. Just Lies

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Responses are on my bio page. I'm glad you're all enjoying it thus far.**

**Wrongful Imprisonment:**

**That's The Way The World Is Now**

**Chapter Three: Just Lies **

Harry ushered them into his room. He closed the door behind them. Once they had entered the room, he asked them quietly, "Why are you here?" He cleared the floor a little bit, picking up some scraps of parchment, making a narrow path for Remus and Tonks to get through.

Remus arched an eyebrow. "Because you sent us an owl this morning."

Harry set on his unmade bed. "Really? I didn't expect Hedwig to get there so soon. She usually likes to take her own sweet time on deliveries," he stated.

Tonks sat on the bed next him, after stepping over some school books and a few articles of various clothing. "Wotcher, Harry! How you going, mate?" she asked Harry, clapping him on the shoulder. Her brown hair made her look like Hermione. She stood up again and went to the mirror. "Hmm…Remus, guess I can change my hair back now, huh?" she concentrated and screwed her eyes shut. In a few moments her hair was back to its 'natrual' pink, spiky state. She admired her look, twirling around for effect.

Harry stared at her, and shuffled back a little bit. "Excuse me, but do I know you?" he asked politely. "And how did you do that!"

"Harry, this is Nymphadora Tonks." Remus pointed at Tonks.

Tonks looked at Harry sternly. "I'm a Metamorphmagus, it means I can change my appearance at will." Seeing the look on Harry's face, she added, "Sorry, you're born with it, you can't learn it. And don't call me Nymphadora. My name's Tonks. All pleasantries aside, Harry; we've come to take you to see your—OW!" she finished, as Remus stepped on her foot.

"Tonks," Remus whispered close to her ear, "There's a little thing called _tact._"

"There's no point beating around the bush. You've read the paper this morning." Tonks proclaimed loudly. With this she was not only addressing Remus, but Harry as well.

Harry pushed his glasses up his nose hastily. "You mean it's true?" he asked, gesturing to his copy of the _Daily Prophet _lying innocently on the floor at the foot of Harry' bed. "I thought this was just some more lies that Rita Skeeter had come up with. The Daily Prophet isn't reputable for telling the truth…I just though it was just lies…more lies! I can't believe it…he…he spent fourteen years in Azkaban! More than Sirius! Is he going to be alright? It's just like a dream…when it gets to the best part, you wake up. Tell me it's a dream, Professor Lupin, tell me it's a dream, tell me I'm going to wake up…no…tell me it's not a dream…tell me I'm not going to wake up, tell me it's true. Professor Lupin, tell me it's true," Harry was sitting quietly on his bed, and he looked like he was going to cry.

But that wasn't right. Harry Potter never cried. He didn't cry that much when he was a baby, and he especially didn't do it now as a soon to be fifteen-year-old boy. But he was. Harry Potter, boy-who-lived-too-many-damn-times. Harry, who had to escape from Voldemort, or one of his incarnates, three out of the four years he had been at Hogwarts.

Harry Potter wasn't meant to cry. But he was doing so right now.

_Hogwarts. _Remus thought to himself. _An institute for learning. Not a setting for many wild adventures. _

What had Dumbledore been thinking, letting the school deteriorate into that state? But this wasn't another fairy tale where the hero fought against the evil dark wizard. This was real life. This was some sort of messed up world where the dead weren't dead and nothing was as it seemed.

Actually, this was starting to seem _very _much like a fairy tale.

"Why, Professor Lupin?" Harry asked quietly, tears trickling slowly down his face.

Remus sat down next to Harry, smoothed out his frayedrobe and put a hand around Harry. "I don't know, Harry, I don't know," he told him, trying to console the teenage boy.

He soon found that he needed consoling himself.

If Nymphadora Tonks hated anything else then people who thought they were better they were better than anyone else, Death Eaters and the name Nymphadora, it was to see men cry. And in front of her she had two crying males. She sat down in the small space between the two and patted them on the back awkwardly. She didn't like feeling out of place, and this time it wasn't because of her hair.

It was because she was between two crying men, and she couldn't feel a thing. Not a single drop of emotion. Her whole body felt numb. Yet she felt like she was the one who had to break them up.

"Remus, Harry? Are you alright?" she finally asked. _What a stupid question to ask, Nymphadora! _She chastised herself. _Of course they're feeling alright! Their best friend and father pretty much comes back to life and you asked if their alright! Well as Remus told you before, so much for tact! Nymphadora, does the word subtlety convey any meaning to you? No? I thought not? Oh, and are you sure it's perfectly normal to refer to yourself in third person inside your head? It's not an entirely healthy habit. Who am I? I'm just that friendly neighbourhood voice that helps you indulge in this unhealthy habit. You may refer to me as your conscience. I will be here to occasionally confuse you and convince you you are going crazy. I will visit you many times during life, making sure you don't do what you want to do, because it's wouldn't be good in the overall scheme of things. I am also here to teach you the skill of tact. Does that make you feel like you're going crazy?  
_

Tonks pushed her conscience away. Her inner mental troubles would have to wait for another day.

"I'm fine…Tonks," Harry finally stated, wiping the inside of his glasses because they had fogged up.

"Don't tell me your fine, Harry, you aren't 'fine'. You don't look 'fine',"

Remus started to open his mouth, but Tonks turned to him. "Don't tell me your fine too, Remus Lupin. You're not fine either,"

_Looks like learning tact will be harder than previously thought, Nymphadora. _

"I'm fine enough to get going." Remus stated, standing up. Harry stood up as well.

"How are we going to get there, fly?" Harry asked jokingly.

"Yep. We brought our brooms." Tonks answered, holding out her Cleansweep for Harry to see. "Do you have your broom here?"

Harry pulled out his Firebolt from under his bed. Tonks's eyes widened. "Wow! You have a _Firebolt. _And I'm still riding a Cleansweep." She exclaimed jealously.

"At least you're not riding one of these." Remus added, gesturing to the Oak 400.

"That's one of the school brooms, isn't it?" Harry asked curiously.

"And it's about a million years old too." Tonks added.

There was a sudden rapping noise at the door. Petunia stuck her long necked head in. "I want you out of the house in the next five minutes," she said snappishly; "My husband is due to come home soon!"

"We'll leave right away, Mrs. Dursley. Is it alright if we take Harry here with us?"

Petunia looked scrutinly at Tonks, taking in her pink hair, then Harry then back at Tonks.

"Didn't you have brown hair before?" Petunia asked, confused.

"Yes."

Petunia's eyes narrowed. "You mean you used your freakish abilities in my household?"

She waited about a split second, then sort of nudged Harry towards Tonks. "You can take him for now. I want you out of the house now! Before my husband comes home!

"Yes Ma'am." Tonks saluted, and grabbed Remus and Harry by the wrists, took them out the door, past a seething Petunia and down the stairs.

As Tonks dragged them down the stairs, Remus asked, "Why do they have photos of balloons on the walls?"

"You idiot!" Tonks hissed. "That's their son!"

"Oh."

They finally made it out the front door. They walked through the slightly brown garden of four Privet Drive and out onto the footpath. "Bye, Privet Drive!" Harry exclaimed.

"Hey, Roger, come back here boy!" A muggle in a jogging outfit was calling down the street. A Jack Russell was heading straight at Tonks. "Here boy!" The muggle called again. He stuffed his fingers in his mouth and whistled, but to no avail.

The Jack Russell reached Tonks and started jumping up and down friskily, panting loudly, and slobbering all over Tonks's pants.

The muggle reached them, and picked up the lively Jack Russell. "Sorry about that. Roger just gets a little excited," he told them, removing his blue patterned headband from his sweating forehead.

"It's alright." Tonks replied, accidentally wiping the slobber with the sleeve of Remus's robe.

The muggle looked at Remus's robe curiously. He had yet again not taken it off. Idiot.

Tonks decided it was time for one of another of her brilliant 'excuses.'

She leaned on a tree on the nature strip, and said, "We're going to a fancy-dress party. He," she gestured to Remus, "is going as a wizard. I am going as a punk." She gestured to her pink hair. And Harry here is going as—OW!" She stopped in mid-sentence as a plum fell on her head.

"A street kid." Remus continued, hoping that Harry's baggy jumper and jeans would be good…or bad…enough to pass.

"Cool. I like 'em fancy dress parties. Have fun now!" the muggle replied, putting Roger on his leash and jogging off into the distance.

"That was close," Tonks said while she rubbed the spot on her head the plum had landed on.

"Saved by the plum, eh?" Remus asked, stroking his chin, eyeing the plum. "We better get going, we've been held up enough as it is." Tonks cast the Disillusionment charm on herself, Remus and Harry.

"I feel like a chameleon." He whispered quietly. Harry's eyes were slightly red for crying, as was Remus's.

"Ready to get going? And as we're flying I would like you to think of an answer for this question…it's kind of similar to one I asked Remus before. What did you think of your parents when you were young? Oh, Remus, are we going straight there?"

"Yes. It's best not to waste time, and if we go back now, Padfoot will insist on coming, whether it's a good idea or not." He mounted the Oak 400. He had a little faith in it now. It had, after all, had gotten him here. Now it needed to get him to St. Mungo's or…well he'd probably end up in St. Mungo's anyway. The former the better way. Less brain damage.

Harry decided to humor Tonks, so he remembered the day he learnt about his parents.

_**Flashback**_

_**Harry walked in the house, carrying both his and his cousin's school bags. It had been their first day of school, and it was only a half-day really. They had finished at one o'clock. He had seen Dudley get picked up by Aunt Petunia. Dudley, in his haste, had left his brand-new school bag behind. **_

_**His Aunt told him to be grateful for what he received, but he realised that Dudley never got taught the same lessons. Dudley, Harry had realised, always was given new, better things. All he got were hand-me-down clothes five times to big for him. **_

_**He had waited until at the school's gate until three thirty, when the older kids finished. That's when he realised his parents weren't going to pick him up, because he didn't have any parents. **_

_**His parents died five…or were it four years ago. Yet he didn't understand. Why didn't his Aunt and Uncle love him like with adoptive parents on the few television shows he had been able to watch? **_

Why was he treated second best, often merely an after-thought? He had liked his first day of school. The teacher had given him a sticker for knowing how to add three and seven. There he was treated like an equal. There he wasn't a burden on 'good, honest, hard-working people' or a freak.

_**He was just like every one else. Just Harry. No one would suspect he was that different. But he was. He didn't have a mum or a dad to tuck him in bed at night. All he had were the spiders. He could never sleep at night. He hated the dark. Instead he lay down and wished that some unknown relative would take him away. Take him away…to a place…where everyone was treated equal. A place he could truly call home. **_

_**A house is but a shell; the home is what you put in. Four Privet Drive may be a home to his cousin, aunt and uncle, but it would never be a home to him. **_

"_**So you're home?" his aunt asked him, having come into the hall with a feather duster. "Finally." **_

_**Harry looked down at his worn, second-hand shoes. "They told us that our parents would pick us up," he mumbled, more to his shoes. **_

"**_And did _**your **_parents pick you up?" Petunia asked. _**

"_**No," Harry admitted quietly. **_

"_**And do you know why? Because your parents don't love you. They left you with us. If they loved you, they wouldn't have left you here." Petunia snapped nastily. **_

"_**They did love me," Harry said determinedly, raising his head so he could look into his Aunt's eyes. "They love me somewhere here." Harry pointed to his chest. **_

"_**Okay, so maybe they loved you…why did they leave you? Why did they die in a car crash, leaving you with only that freakish scar on your forehead?" **_

"Is that what happened…they died? And left me here…and I got this?" he asked, pointing to his scar.

"Yes. And don't ask questions."

End Flashback.

A sudden hope rose in his heart. His mother had loved him, had died for him. His father was alive. Alive! A father…what would one be like? Someone to care for him…someone who loved him…but he realised that, James…his father…might not be alright. Sirius had said that some people went crazy after only a month in…that place. His hope deflated. _But then again…Sirius survived twelve years in Azkaban…was it possiblemy father has done the same?  
_

He ruthlessly squashed the hope down again. There was no reason to get his hopes up. Whenever he wished for something, wanted something, _anything, _he never got it. Even if it was something simple, like to be tucked into bed at night, or a birthday cake. Even now nothing ever went his way. As long as he could remember, he had always wanted to be Harry. Just Harry. A normal child, no unloving guardians, no evil psychotic Dark Lords out for his head.

Just Harry. But his biggest wish of all, a parent, had never come true. Until now. And he was going to wake up any second. This was all some fantasy his brain had generated to cope with his boredom. But the air hitting him on the face, making him shiver, was all the proof he needed. _This was real!_

"Descent!" yelled Tonks. Harry pulled his Firebolt so the front faced the ground. "We're aiming for that deserted alleyway, just to make sure we don't topple onto some poor Muggle or something."

Harry flew a little to the left. They reached the ground in a matter of minutes. Tonks managed to keep her balance this time, but Remus didn't. He toppled right into a rubbish bin, making a huge crashing noise and littering the whole street with garbage.

Tonks pulled him up. Remus hastily grabbed a clump of rubbish and dumped in the nearest rubbish bin. They walked out of the alleyway and into the street, coming to a stop in front of a dusty old shop Purge & Dowes Ltd. A mannequin was on display, modeling a dress which look like it belonged in a history book. On the front door of the shop there was a "Closed for Refurbishment" sign.

Tonks leaned in towards the glass and whispered, "Wotcher, we're here to see James Potter."  
The mannequin beckoned them in. Tonks went in with Harry first, because he was looking confused. Remus came in after them. St. Mungo's wasn't very busy. Two or three people sat around, reading old copies of Witch Weekly and more recent copies of either the _Daily Prophet _or the _Evening Prophet. _

She walked up to the Welcome Witch's desk. The Welcome Witch was a thin, blonde woman, with blue eyes and a bored expression. They joined a short queue, behind a man who had unfortunately sprouted a pig's tail from his bottom, not unlike the one Harry saw Hagrid give Dudley.

The pig-tailed man reached the Welcome Witch. Without even asking, she said, "Spell Damage. Fourth Floor," in a flat, monotone voice.

"We're here to see James Potter." Tonks told the Welcome Witch. She flipped through a pile of parchment and replied. "At the moment, healers are only allowing blood family members to visit Mr. Potter."

Remus sighed. Of course. If they weren't sure of the state of the patient, they only let in family. Which was annoying. But there was no point arguing about it. That would only get them kicked out.

"But—" Tonks started, but the Welcome Witch interrupted her.

"No buts. You can sit here and wait," she suddenly turned to Harry like she had only just noticed he was there. "You can go in of course. He's in the fourth floor, Spell Damage, Ana Moon Ward. The healers gave him the whole ward to himself.

Harry thanked the healer and walked away. Tonks and Remus both agreed to stay behind, Tonks looking interested in "13 Ways to Change Your Wear!" in one of last year's Witch Weekly's.

Harry walked through a set of double doors. Up some rickety old stairs until he reached the fourth floor. He nervously ran a hand through his hair. He went to open the door but found he couldn't summon up the nerve to open it.

_Where's that Gryffindor courage now, Potter?_

He stood in the hallway for a couple of minutes, deliberating if he wanted to go in or not. He couldn't stand it any longer. He pushed open the door. The first thing he saw upon entering the room was a man sitting on the bed. He was dressed in the robes of a St. Mungo's patient. He had messy jet-black hair, and he looked like he hadn't washed in months.

_Or fourteen years._

But the worst thing was the eyes. The hazel eyes were like stones, unmoving and lifeless. This was one of the times that Harry wished that the saying 'eyes are the window to the soul' was entirely untrue. His eyes were framed by black, square glasses, which looked like they needed a good cleaning, or just needed to be thrown out.

The man…his father…stared at him for a few seconds. Then in a raspy voice, he said one simple word.

"Harry."

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So what do you think? This was meant to be up earlier…but noooooo, my ISP had to be down ALL DAY. It's finally deciding to work now. Anyway, please leave a review, or any constructive criticism, if you have any. I just had to end it there, didn't I?

'Til next time,

Thoughts And Pondering.


	4. The Temporary Minister of Magic

A/N: Sorry this chapter wasn't up earlier. I had a little bit of writer's block. Thanks to everyone who reviewed.

**Wrongful Imprisonment:**

**That's The Way the World Is Now**

**Chapter Four: The Temporary Minister of Magic**

One of the Healers bustling around with potion vials turned around quickly. "Mr. Potter! You spoke!"

"Harry," he repeated in the same raspy voice. "Come here."

Harry walked cautiously over to him. He brushed Harry's hair away with the side of one hand. "You have her eyes," he whispered.

The Healer had grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill, and was quickly writing everything that was being said. For a few seconds, the only sound in the room was the scratching of her quill.

Harry looked at his father. Looked into the eyes that had formed into long, gray tunnels. And he couldn't say anything. Not because he didn't have anything to say. He had so many things to say. Things he wanted to _ask. _But something compelled him to keep his mouth shut. It was because he was afraid. No Gryffindor courage to fall back on now.

He felt perfectly brave when put in life-or-death situations, but things like that had been a constant in his life. He realised what he was afraid of. He was afraid of change. He was afraid that things would be so different if his father got better. Would they be for the better? He wouldn't know…he'd never had a parent before.

He opened his mouth to say something, but found that his mouth was dry, and he was unable to construct any words. He wanted to say something _meaningful. _The only problem was finding out what that would be.

"I-I'm Harry Potter," he finally managed to say. He immediately berated himself for doing so. _He's your father! He knows what your name is! He said it five minutes ago! _

The corners of his father's lips turned into a small smile, but it didn't last very long, as if his face had grown unaccustomed to smiling.

"You've grown so tall. You're so much like your mother," he said so quietly it was hard to hear him

That was different. People always said that he looked like his father. James—his father—stared at something on the wall Harry could not see. The healer clucked to herself, her long, narrow, nose nearly touching the parchment she wrote on.

Harry stood there uncomfortably, averting his gaze to look at his sneakers. He couldn't say anything, yet he didn't need to. He had pretty much summed up what he though of himself in one sentence.

"Moony." James stated suddenly, turning to look at Harry. Harry tried to look away. He didn't like looking into those haunted eyes. In their depths he could see shadows dancing on tunnel walls.

"Professor Lupin's outside." Harry replied, gesturing to the ward door.

"Outside," James stated, turning to the healer. "Moony's outside."

The healer turned to Harry, and opened her mouth to ask a question when the ward door opened. In walked Remus, with a tall, dark skinned wizard. He was bald, and had a shiny scalp. In one ear was a round gold earring.

Remus looked around the room. The first person he saw was Harry, who was staring at Kingsley. He stepped in front of him and announced smoothly, "Harry, this is Kingsley Shacklebolt."

Harry nodded in acknowledgement, looking Kingsley up and down.

Then, he saw James. And Remus felt his heart freeze. James turned his head to look at Remus. That was when Remus first saw his face. It was horrible, (not that he looked that great himself).

"Moony," he whispered slowly.

"Prongs."

James started to shake uncontrollably. Remus moved forward, but both the Healer and Kingsley held him back, holding onto the back of his patched robes. He tried to keep moving, but found that—he read the nametag on the Healer's white robes—that Fiona and Kingsley were too strong for him.

This meant that there was no one there to hold Harry back. He leapt forward, nearly tripping over the bottoms of his large jeans and laid a hand on James's shoulder. James did not stop shaking. His face was white and his eyes were dull and blank, two gray stones.

Harry withdrew his hand after a few seconds. He took a slow step backwards. Then he asked fearfully, "Dad?"

James stopped shaking suddenly, as if someone had slammed on the breaks at the last possible moment. He looked up, and saw Harry's fearful face. "Harry?" he asked.

"It's alright Ja-- dad," Harry said soothingly, the way one might reassure a young child.

"I saw her." James said flatly, having made no indication of having heard Harry. Fiona let go of Remus's robes and dipped the quill in her left hand into an inkpot, and retrieved her piece of parchment and started scribbling furiously on it.

"There was blue light," he continued. Remus and Harry turned to look at each other. Kingsley, however, was listening to James intently. What was going on?

"And there was screaming," he said.

Fiona dipped her quill into the inkpot again. She sat down in a nearby wooden chair, and continued writing.

"And it was all my fault."

Fiona raised an eyebrow. "It is not your fault, Mr. Potter. The Ministry have found He Who Must Not Be Named to be guilty of the crimes you were convicted for." She said this slowly and softly, as if she was unsure how James would take the information. Her amber brown eyes looked curious.

"It took them long enough--," he stated, looking Fiona straight in the eyes. She shivered slightly, her shoulders quivered. In those eyes, she saw a man haunted.

Kingsley interrupted. "Actually, it's not the fault of the Ministry. It's actually the fault of Cornelius Fudge," he said in his deep voice. He absent-mindedly tapped his foot on the floor.

James stared at Kingsley in disbelief. "If the French attacked England, it would be the fault of France, even though the actual civilians were not involved. In the Ministry's case it's worse, since they elected the Minister. It's their fault he's Mister for Magic, so therefore the entire Ministry is at fault, not only F—the Minister."

Harry noticed how his father faltered when he had tried to say Fudge's name.

Fiona lifted her head up from the parchment. "Anything else?"

James remained silent.

"Can I ask a question?" Remus asked.

Fiona nodded, some of her light brown hair falling into her face. She looked at James, who was staring unblinkingly at the ceiling, as if he was trying to count how many cracks there was in the ceiling. She turned to look at Remus and Kingsley. She set her parchment and quill down on the nearby bench. Kingsley sat down in the other chair, facing Fiona. He looked to Fiona then James, then Fiona again.

"Are dogs allowed in the wards?" Remus asked, thinking of Sirius. He wouldn't be able to transform, especially if there was a Healer in the room, but seeing Sirius (Even if it only was in his dog form) may help James. James confused him. He had always confused him, James was a very complicated person, but now he seemed to be confusing him even more. At some points he seemed…_normal_…but no one was completely normal after being to Azkaban. Not even Sirius. He tried his best, but he was still a wanted convict, albeit an innocent one, living in his mother's house at the age of thirty-five.

"Under hospital policy, no animals are allowed on hospital premises at any given time." Fiona replied. "And—" she was interrupted by a loud rapping noise at the door.

"Who could that be?" Harry asked aloud. James's gaze came off the ceiling and instead resided on the door.

Fiona walked over to the door. "Who is it?" she asked. It sounded like she was asking who was knocking at the front door of her house.

"Dolores Umbridge, temporary Minister of Magic due to Cor—Mr. Fudge's absence. I need to be let in immediately." Her voice was syrupy sweet, but sounded rather haughty at the same time.

"I am sorry, but hospital policy states that only blood relatives are allowed to visit Mr. Potter," Fiona replied.

Remus looked at the door as well when he heard the name Umbridge. Wasn't she the one who drafted the anti-werewolf legislation? The woman who tagged up those Merepeople?

"So how does that explain me seeing—she whispered to someone next to her—Remus Lupin enter this ward along with Kingsley Shacklebolt?"

"It is permissible for a non-related person to visit if a patient asks for them directly." Fiona replied coolly.

"I am the _Minister of Magic—"_

"And if that's the way you behave, I cannot wait until the day the Ministry appoints the _permanent _Minister. Preferably not one that acts like a two-year-old child."

"I cannot wait until the day the whole Ministry is replaced with a better system." James said so quietly that only Harry heard him. Harry smiled slightly. The Ministry was alright, in his eyes, butthe problem was merely the people within it. Such as Cornelius Fudge, who had been denying Voldemort's return until today. Now people doubted every word he ever said.

"You should treat me with proper respect!" Umbridge squealed, her voice losing its sugary tones. "Let me in at once!"

"The door's open." Kingsley stated from his place in the chair. He was obviously enjoying the whole thing a _bit _too much. He had been watching the events as if it was a soap opera.

The knob turned, and on the other side of the door was Dolores Umbridge. She was wearing a fluffy pink cardigan with a matching bow in her mousy brown hair. Next to her was a sheepish looking Tonks. Umbridge had Tonks's wrist tightly in her hand, and looked as if she'd been dragged all the way from the waiting room. Fiona was seething. Just because the door was unlocked didn't mean to open it.

Fiona turned around for a second to pick up her wand which she had left on the bench. Everyone else's attention was focused on Umbridge. In the corner of her eye she saw someone lying unconscious on the floor.

She screamed.

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A/N: Well that sounds odd, doesn't it? Well not really. Review responses on my bio page soon, maybe tomorrow, since my mum just told me to go to bed.


	5. Hospital Drama

**A/N: Has been combined with extension. Extension has been deleted. (If it's not, it should've been)**

**Wrongful Imprisonment:**

**That's The Way The World Is Now**

**Chapter 5: Hospital Drama**

Fiona screamed.

Umbridge, Tonks, Remus and Harry turned to look at her. James was staring at the cracks in the ceiling and seemed oblivious to what was going on. Fiona paled slightly then seemed to righten herself. She stood up straight, pulling on the hem of her starched white robe. "It's alright," she whispered, two fingers on the unconscious man's wrist. "He's alive." She went to a bench on the side of the room with some potions vials. She picked one up, it was half-full of a sticky, lilac liquid. "He's just been poisoned."

"Who is this man?" Umbridge asked, her voice full of sugary politeness again. She advanced into the room. Tonks, after a few moments hesitation, followed her. She stood behind Umbridge. She caught Remus's eye and winked. Remus smiled back.

"He's Amyller. He was meant to take over my shift." Fiona explained. She lifted the vial up to a candle, and groaned. "I thought so. Alylac. Poisinous when drunk on its own."

"How did he get in!" Umbridge demanded to know. She tugged on the sleeves of her frilly pale pink cardigan. Tonks walked into the room and perched on the arm of Kingsley's chair. James's cold hazel eyes followed her. He seemed distrusting of her.

"He went through the employee entrance. There's a narrow stairwell. He must have been pretty quiet, but then again, Amyller's a pretty quiet man." Fiona replied. She hooked her arms under the sturdy brown-haired man lying on the floor. "Help me help him into one of the beds, will you?" she asked the room in general.

It seemed like no-one else was going to offer, since Umbridge was still seething at Fiona's words and Kingsley was too comfortable in his chair and Tonks looked very tired (she had been on guard duty last night) and probably wouldn't have been able to lift the man's bulk, so Remus walked foward and lifted Amyller's legs. They moved him on the bed next to James's.

Fiona walked back to the bench. "The antidote's in here somewhere, we're just running out of it. This is our last vial," she said as she picked up another vial. This one was full of a clear liquid, a little bit like clouded water. She went to Amyller's bed and trickled the vial's contents into his slightly open mouth. "He should awaken within twelve hours." She smiled, mainly for Umbridge's benefit as she was still glaring at her. In an undertone she added,"I better be paid overtime for this."

Umbridge spoke again, this time her voice was dull and bland and had a slight speech-making tone in it. "Is Mr. Potter alright? The Ministry and I are concerned," she asked, her face nor voice showing any concern what so ever.

Remus sat on the end of the hospital bed oppisite James's. His legs were very tired from standing up for the last half hour. Harry sat next to him.

"We think he'll be discharged in four days," Fiona said professionly. She walked over to James and patted him on the shoulder the way one might reassure a young child.

"The Ministry wants to take him to be our charge." Umbridge stated. She pulled out a piece of parchment of the pocket of her cardigan. "I have a document signed here from the Minister--"

Fiona interrupted. "Are you currently in the habit of talking of yourself in third peson? Fiona thinks that you might need to spend some time here yourself. Yes, Fiona does indeed think that."

Umbridge gave her a scathing look. "You're just jealous of your cousin. I'm--," she puffed out her chest, "Minister for Magic. And you...you are a healer."

"At least I save people's lives, not destroy them."

Umbridge turned a deaf ear to Fiona. Everyone in the room were watching the two of them as if they were at a theatre play. Even James had stopped his watching the wall/ceiling habit and was watching them with mild interest.

Umbridge started again. "The Ministry wants to take Mr.Potter to be our charge. I have a document here..." She handed the rolled up parchment to Fiona. Fiona did nottake it out of her hands, however. "That will not be neccesary," she said.

"Mr. Potter is in an unstable condition, and needs a carer." Umbridge walked even closer to Fiona, they were barely three feet apart.

"He already has one." Fiona explained calmly, with the air of one telling a small child that they could not fly without a broom.

There was a moment of silence. The only sound was James tapping his bare feet on the floor. Harry was sitting next to him. He smiled at the father he hadn't seen in fourteen years. James attempted a smile back. His eyes brightened so much Remus swore they were a different shade of grey altogether. Kingsley fiddled with the gold earring he had in his ear.

"Who is it?" Umbridge asked, drawing herself to her full height. "Where is he?"

Remus thought he knew who it was. And if all he had heard about Dolores Umbridge was true, she was not going to like it. Her wide mouth twitched in anticipation. Fiona laid her other hand on James's other shoulder. She waited a second and replied. "A Mr. Dumbledore was given the responsibility of taking care of Mr. Potter until the time the hospital sees fit."

Umbridge seemed to divulge this information. For a few moments she looked like she had eaten a particulary disgusting bit of food, but she swallowed, her expression not dissamiliar to someone swallowing said food item. "I guess I should be going then. It seems that my presence here at St. Mungo's is no longer wanted, nor required." She walked to the door.

James looked at Umbridge. He stared so hard that Remus thought he was trying to bore a hole in her skull.

Umbridge turned around when she reached the door, facing Remus,James, Harry, Tonks, Fiona and Kingsley."This will not be the last you see of me," she declared.

"I'm sure it won't be," Fiona replied idly.

"Remember, St. Mungos is now Ministry propety, and we have a say on whatever goes on in here. Don't forget," she walked through to the hallway.

Tonks was the first to speak in Umbridge's presence. "Such a nice and lovable person, isn't she?" she asked them, her voice dripping in sarcasm.

Remus nodded absent-mindedly and turned to look at the clock on the wall. "Is that the time?" he asked aloud. "We must get going, we have to bring Harry back to his aunt and uncle."

Tonks nodded. She jumped of the arm of the wooden chair, and said, "I'm ready to go."

"He lives WHERE?" James exclaimed, sliding lengthways on his bed. Fiona walked sideways and put her hand on his shoulder again to steady him.

"He lives with Lily's sister, Petunia, during summer holidays." Remus picked some fluff of his robes.

"Lily," James whispered. He squeezed Harry's hand. "Be careful, Harry."

Harry grinned lopsidedly, "I'll try...dad." Harry smiled again, and this time James was fully able to return it.

"C'mon, Harry," Tonks said. "Your dad'll be fine here with Amyller and Fiona. Let's go. You'll see him again in four days when he's discharged from the hospital. You'll be able to see your dad somewhere else than a hospital bed!"

They left throught the open door.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

**First of August, Summer 1995. **

Tonks was writing a fake letter to the Dursley's, inviting them to a non existent best kept lawn competition. She was hunched over the small, shabby typewriter she was using, pushing the last final key. S. She pulled it out of the typewriter, folded up the letter and put it in a envelope. Grabbing a ballpoint pen lying on the kitchen table, she put down the fake return address on the back of the envelope.

_Dora Thomas_

_Society of Gardens_

_Garden Lane,_

_London._

She finished it with a flourish. She stuck a stamp in the right hand corner of the envelope. She really didn't want it to be sent back, especially when the 'Society of Gardens' did not exist.

At least not in the middle of London.

"Are you finished?" someone asked tiredlybehind her.

Tonks picked up the envelope. "I've been up all night typing it. These things could be a little more user-friendly." She pointed to the rusty typewriter.

"Are you going to mail it today, Tonks?"The speaker sat down next toher. She turned to face him. It was her secondcousin, Sirius.

"Yeah..." Tonks pulled her waist length dark red hair from underneath her and stood up from her chair. She stretched her legs out. "What time is it?" she asked, "It's still dark out." She pointed out the small window above the kitchen.

Sirius rolled his eyes. Leaning back on the hind legs of his chair, he said, "Tonks, this is a _basement_."

"Why does it have a window?" Tonks asked in suprise. She walked up to the window and wiped at it with the sleeve of her robe. The grime did not go away. "It's a fake window!" she exclaimed, finally catching on. "Why does the kitchen have one?" she asked curiously.

Sirius shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, ask my father," he said with a slight bitter tone to his voice. Tonks thought it was time to change the subject out of these dangerous waters.

"You know, you can break your back doing that," Tonks told Sirius conversationally, as she pointed to his chair.

Sirius swung the front legs of the chair back on the floor with a loud bang.

"Yes, Professor," he said sarcastically.

The kitchen door opened. Tonks sighed and stood up, snatching her letter up as well as a cup of coffee. "Good Morning," Hermione said as she walked into the room, her bushy brown hair was wet, she had obviously just had a shower, unless she had the unusual habit in bobbing apples when she woke up in the morning. Shesat down in the chair Tonks had occupied moments before. The chair squeaked.

"To answer your former question, it's six-thirty on the morning of the first of August.." Sirius informed her. "What's news at the Ministry?" he asked her as Hermione stood up after a few seconds andwent to make herself breakfast.

"Umbridge's made a new 'Educational Degree', and it says that if the Headmaster of Headmistress of any wizarding school in the United Kingdom cannot produce a teacher, the Ministry will appoint one." Tonks drummed her fingers on the table. "And Dumbledore's been having a lot of trouble finding a Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. Would you want a job that's cursed?"

"Not particularly." Sirius swung on his chair again. Tonks rolled her eyes, but did not chatise him. "I thought that Hogwarts was the only wizard school in the U.K, anyway."

"It is. That's what makes the whole thing even more ridiculous." Tonks sighed again and reclaimed her seat.

"Has Umbridge decided who she wants to teach the position?" Sirius asked curiously.

Tonks sighed for a third time and said, "Yes. She wants me to do it."

"Why you?" Sirius asked her.

"She seems to think I am on her side," Tonks said unhappily. She then smiled. "Just wait till she finds out the truth."

"Are you going to take it?" Sirius asked.

"Might as well. Since the Ministry is still refusing to believe Voldemort is back, we Aurors are just doing a dungload of paperwork. Filing events which happened a hundred years ago." She yet again decided it was time to change the subject. She didn't want to get into a conversation about Voldemort.

"James comes here tomorrow," she told Sirius. By the look on Sirius's face, this wasn't a good topic to change the subject to.

"I just can't believe I was four cell blocks away from him for twelve years, and I never knew." Sirius sighed. "I knew alot of people...heard what they screamed at night...I never heard James...James...wasn't someone to let people know he was suffering. He preffered to wear a happy face and pretend everything was alright...everything was alright...he thought everything would be better in the end...when he was upset...or confused...I guess...he used to hide behind himself...become obnoxious to the point of being harmfully rude."

Hermione sat down on a chair in the corner of the table and started to eat her buttered bread.

"You've had a long time to think about this stuff, haven't you?"

"Too long. Let's go wake Moony up." It was Sirius who changed the subject this time. He stood up and walked up the stairs.

"I'll mail this today then!" Tonks hollered up to Sirius. She smiled at Hermione who was now getting herself a cup of coffee.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

**Second of August, Summer, 1995. **

"So they're gone, then?" Tonks asked under the stuffy invisibility cloak.

"Well, their car's gone, that's a good sign." Remus was under the same invisibility cloak as Tonks and they were moving at a snail's pace towards Number Four, Privet Drive.

"It's nearly nine, we better be going...they'll be home soon...why'd we leave it so late?" Tonks asked. She changed her hair back to her usual pink and spiky.

"It took Dumbledore and I two hours to convince Moody not to send a full guard." Remus was wearing another of his shabby, patched robes.

As they neared the front door, Tonks asked, "Why don't you just fix it?" She groaned as she stepped on, andsquashed, one of the flowers in the Dursley's front garden.

"Fix what?" Remus asked, mystified.

"Your robes!" Tonks exclaimed.

"It's a long story...and we don't have time." Remus yawned tiredly.He look right, then left, then right again.He cuppedhishand to his ear.When he was certain no-one was listening, he whispered"Alohamora." He pointed the wand to the front door of the Dursley's respectable abode. The lock clicked open. Remus twisted the door knob. The door swung open. The room was brightly lit, the source of light coming from the ceiling. Someone had turned the lightswitch on.

Harry was sitting on the bottom of the stairs. Remus looked at him in suprise. Harry answered his unspoken question. "Sirius sent me an owl to tell me to excpect some visitors," he explained. He stood up and ran a hand through his hair.

"Did you forget to brush it?" Tonks asked.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "There wouldn't be a point."

"Portkey time!" Tonks exclaimed, pulling said item out of her pocket. "We're going places!" She held the broken tennis ball to Harry and Remus. "Hold on. This will take us to the hall. And yes," she said as she saw the look that Remus's brown eyes gave her, "It's authorised. By the Minister for Magic herself."

"Three...two...one..."

Harry had a finger on the Portkey. The lit up front hall of Four Privet Drive swam and disappeared before him, and the fourth floor of St. Mungo appeared.

Tonks knocked on the door of the Ana Moon ward, not wanting to display rudeness, as Umbridge had done.

There was no answer.

She knocked again, louder and harder. Eventually she threw open the door. She was looking into a dark room. James was gone.

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Thoughts and Pondering.


	6. The Healer's Strike

Spell Checked! Aren't you all glad? 

**Wrongful Imprisonment: **_By Thoughts and Pondering _

**That's the Way the World is Now.**

**Chapter Six: The Healer's Strike**

"Lumos," Tonks muttered, her wand held aloft. A narrow beam errupted from the end. She circled the room, careful not to trip over her own feet. After going around the room three times, she voiced her most likely thought. "Remus, Harry," she whispered, "There's no-one here."

Remus looked around the room, his eyes glinting in the darkness. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Or lack thereof.

"Maybe he's just been moved to another room or something," Harry suggested.

Tonks nodded absent mindedly and they walked back out into the corridor. The candles in the corridor were burning low. There was more light in the hall then in the ward but Healers would never let candles burn that low...they always re-lit them after twelve hours...the charm was meant to last sixteen. The dim light made spooky shadows jump all the way down the deserted hall.

"Let's go down to the waiting area and ask questions there," Remus said. "Maybe they'll know what happened." Tonks nodded her assent.

"It was a stupid idea to take the Portkey anyway," she muttered under her breath.

They walked quickly down all the way to the bottom. Remus could not help but notice that all the halls they passed were as deserted as the one they just left. When they made their way back down to the waiting area, they found out where every one was.

Unlike the halls they had passed, this room was brightly lit. It looked like a riot was taking place. There was shouting and screaming going on. Some of the Healers had picket signs, some of them had written letters in the air. In various different colours, Remus read similar things_' 'Workers Rights!' 'Give up the Galleons!_' and one that declared, '_WAGES TOO SMALL!' _The Healers that weren't shouting and waving were tending to the patients, occasionally stopping their work to look at their colleagues with disgust. The patients had been pushed next to the wall on makeshift beds. Blocking their view of the whole fiasco was the back of a heavy-set Ministry official.

Remus identified James on the other side of the room. He caught his eyes and smiled. Next to him were Amyller and Fiona, both of them were looking at the striking Healers with open disgust. Patrolling around the picketing Healers were some Ministry officials wearing the official purple robes of on-duty workers in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He didn't see Dolores Umbridge. The worker strike at St. Mungo's obviously wasn't important enough to warrant her attention.

"IF YOU REALLY CARED ABOUT THE PATIENTS YOU WOULDN'T BE JEPORADISING THEIR HEALTH BY--" shouted one of the Healers on the sidelines yelled at the top of her voice, breaking into Remus's thoughts.

"WE CARE!" was all that was yelled back a striking Healer.

"Tonks," Remus whispered, "Why is everyone squashed together in here?"

"When a strike takes place, like now," Tonks explained, pointing to the crowd of Healers, "the Ministry push everyone in the same room so they can get it under control." She sat down on the spot. There was no use trying to go past the Ministry official, and he wouldn't notice them unless they spoke to loudly. His gaze was too firmly fixed on the mess in front of him, and his thoughts were fixated on his job, which was not to let anyone vacate the premises until the mess was sorted out.

"How'd you know?" Remus asked curiously. "Has it happened before?"

Tonks looked at Remus open-mouthed.

"You mean you didn't know about Millicent Bagnold's assassination?" she asked, her blue-grey eyes growing wide.

"I heard. The whole Wizarding world knew that she was murdered." Remus sat down next to her and Harry sat down as well.

"Millicent Bagnold? Wasn't she the Minister for Magic before Fudge?" Harry asked. Remus nodded.

"Only the people there knew what really happened. But I'm not sure if anyone was there...the paper didn't say where she was at the time." Remus put his head in his hands. "It was two months before Voldemort's downfall. It was horrible."

"I was there." Tonks looked up at Remus and he saw her face. There was no sign of the klutzy, easy going Tonks. This was a different Tonks. This Tonks looked mature. "Mum used to work at the Ministry, for the Department of Magical Sports. Most of the areas of the Ministry were going on strike that day; I think they were angry because the Ministry had taken away their lunch breaks. Anyway, Mum took me along, since Dad was going to a friend's wedding. I think I was eight, and I was in a bad mood, because I had tried to convince Mum I was mature enough to stay home by myself, but she dragged me along anyway. Probably something to do with the time I fed her Crup a burnt plastic fork. Anyway, it was about three hours into the strike when the Death Eaters attacked. You know what happened. 'Bout a third of the room didn't get out without serious injury."

"What about you?" Remus asked; glad to finally know the truth about what happened that day.

"What about me? I was too short to be hit by any of the spells thrown."

"It's really quiet, isn't it?" Harry observed.

Remus and Tonks stopped and listened. "The shouting's stopped." They both stated at exactly the same time.

"And that Ministry official's no longer blocking our way," Harry pointed out.

They nodded at each other and walked down into the main waiting area. An aged old Healer was shaking hands with a purple robed Auror. "Sonorus," the Auror mumbled, pointing his wand down his throat. He climbed atop one of the battered beige chairs in the waiting room and announced, "The Healer salary has been brought up from eight sickles and seven knuts an hour to ten sickles and a knut an hour." Another of the Ministry officials scrawled his words down on a piece of parchment and handed it to his superior.

The picketing Healers cheered. That was a huge monetary increase for many of them. The Healers on the sides merely shrugged. The official which had read the announcement nodded to his colleagues and after he waved his wand around and muttered a few words, they Apparated out.

Fiona waved at them and gestured for them to come over. They crossed the width of the room quickly." I saw you over there," she said as she tucked a few loose strands of brown hair back into her hairnet. "James is ready to go home with you now, wherever home is for you. Here," she dropped a heavy roll of parchment into Remus's hands, "are some care instructions for James."

Remus did a quick scan of the list. "Merlin's Beard!" he gasped. "This is like taking care of a small child! No offence, James." He rolled the parchment up and put into the pocket of his robes. Tonks nodded, as she read it over his shoulder.

James merely grinned. "At least I'm toilet trained." He sat upright on the edge of the bed. Tonks, Remus, Harry and Fiona laughed.

Fiona nodded behind James's shoulder. "You'll have to take him back here once a week so we can mark his progress. He should be walking without support within a fortnight at the most. We have a wheelchair to take him home in, but it's upstairs.

Amyller walked quietly over. He looked a bit hassled. His medium length brown beard looked a bit wild, Remus wouldn't be a bit surprised if there were some mice living in it. As long as there weren't any rats... "I'll get it," Amyller suggested. "I want to get out of this room, it's awfully stuffy. He pulled the sleeve of his white Healer robe to the end of his hand, covering it. He mopped his sweaty brow and left.

Fiona sat down on the edge of the bed, taking caution not to crease the sheets. "The pay rise isn't that important," she stated, looking at her fellow Healers. "Not to me anyway."

"Why were only half the Healers on strike?" Harry asked, as he sat down on his father's other side. James smiled at his son, and ruffled Harry's hair. Harry did nothing to stop this.

Fiona sighed loudly. "I didn't see the point. What would I spend it on? I admit, it would have been useful ten years back...but now most of my life revolves around my work."

"Why ten years ago?" Tonks asked curiously.

Fiona merely shook her head, indicating she didn't want to talk about it. Amyller returned with the wheelchair. He grasped one of James's hands and Fiona took the other and together they helped James into the chair. James didn't look very happy at this; Remus knew the quicker James could walk, the better. James didn't like being helped along like a cripple. Remus wondered why Azkaban hadn't affected Sirius as much as it had James. Sirius seemed fine. Or maybe he wasn't. Maybe this was all a test...thrown down to them by some unknown force. He couldn't help but think this shouldn't have happened...that something in some controlling force's plans had gone wrong. But another of his best friends was back, and they were back from the same place. If he really thought about it, all of them had been isolated and alone for at least twelve years.

Maybe they could heal each other.

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Thanks and til next time.

Thoughts and Pondering.


	7. The Dementors

**Wrongful Imprisonment: By Thoughts and Pondering.**

**Chapter Seven: The Dementors.**

He blinked slightly as Fiona bade them good-bye, reminding them to come back in a week's time for a mandatory check up. Remus put a hand on the handle of James's wheelchair, and Tonks said, "I have to go to work. Won't that be fun? Seriously, we aren't doing anything...except paperwork...Are you all right to go without me? Oh, and did you remember to send the Dusrley's that owl with the letter, so they know Harry hasn't been abducted by aliens or some other nonsense like that?" As she spoke, she changed her hair back to dark brown, hanging halfway down her back. Her eyes became honey coloured. Remus smiled. These were her natural looks. Remus had only seen her like this a few times before, but he thought she looked nicer when her hair didn't resemble a pink cactus.

"The Minister doesn't like it if we come to work in 'disguise'." Tonks explained her reasoning behind turning her hair back. "Our appearances are meant to match the picture on our Auror qualifications." Tonks smoothed out the robe she was wearing.

Remus nodded, clutching on to James's wheelchair so hard that Tonks was half afraid the handle would break off. Tonks said her goodbyes to James, Remus and Harry, and Apparated her way out of the hospital. The room spun, the way it might spin if one had been spinning in circles for an hour, or if they were very drunk. Somehow, in this in-between place from the leaving point, to the Apparating point, she shuddered. She disliked Apparating. However, it was essential for an Auror to have their Apparating licence. It was part of their job, after all. Unbidden, her first Apparating lesson came to mind.

"_Splinching happens when the mind is insufficiently_ determined. _Arriving at the wrong location happens when the mind is not fully focused on the destination...deliberation is needed..." _

As her feet hit solid ground and opened her eyes and found herself in one piece and right next to Atrium in the Ministry of Magic, she deliberated that whatever deliberation was needed for wasn't important.

"You have wonderful timing, Miss Tonks." Tonks didn't realised she was being spoken to for a couple of seconds; no one had called her Miss Tonks since her school days. She wheeled around, and saw Dolores Umbridge looking up at her. Next to her was a rather sweaty looking woman, though whether the sweat was from physical activity or fear, it was quite hard to tell. Perhaps a mixture of both. She was about forty years old, with short cropped blonde hair, and murky coloured eyes. She was wearing a white Muggle T-shirt, and blue shorts. Tonks finally recognized her, as Amy Lythdan, editor of the Daily Prophet. Why she was wearing Muggle clothing in the Ministry of Magic was a good question, but looking at how stressed and anxious she looked, she had come here in a hurry.

Looking from Amy to Umbridge and back to Amy, in the politest voice she could muster, she asked, "What is it you want, Minister?"

Umbridge eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at the tall blonde woman standing beside her. "Mrs. Lythdan here is under the impression she saw two Dementors gliding through a Muggle area just short of an hour ago."

Making sure she chose her words carefully in front of Umbridge, as there were a couple of rumours going around the Wizarding community including her and Cornelius Fudge, the most ridiculous of which was that she was secretly having an affair with him. All of the rumours were intended to be taken with a grain of salt, but you could never be too careful... "Have you ensured that all the Dementors are in place at Azkaban?" she asked the Minister, looking curiously at Amy all the while.

Umbridge stared at her for a second and then stumbled into a sentence. "I-well...no, I don't think that's really necessary. Miss Tonks, I want you to retrieve the Obliviator Squad, and while you're at it, contact the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee. Mrs. Lythdan here is of the opinion that a teenage, Muggle boy received the Dementor's Kiss. While that, in it's self, is not an important issue..." Amy cast her a horrified look.

Tonks had seen the Daily Prophet editor pass by her on numerous occasions, but she was always calm and business like, and was never like this. Umbridge, however, did not see this look, and continued rattling on,"...the more important issue is that these Dementors have obviously been, well, not seen by these boys, but more sensed. They have broken the Statute of Secrecy, and these Dementors must be found before they threaten the magical community." Amy nodded, hastily pushing strands of blonde-grey hair behind her ears. She looked like she was about to burst into tears.

"But what will we do with them? Send them to Azkaban? You can't kill a Dementor." Tonks sighed and looked at the ground. It was in an Auror's job description to be a Dark Wizard catcher, not a Dark Creature one. But most people associated Dementors with Aurors. Aurors were the ones who kept the Azkaban patrols...making sure the Dementors did their jobs...yes, it really was an Auror's job, no matter how much it wasn't in their job description.

Amy did burst into tears at this, sniffling noisily. "That boy's as good as dead!" she exclaimed hysterically.

Umbridge smiled a wide-mouthed smile, and put a hand around Amy's shoulder in what was probably meant to be an attempt to reassure her. "Mrs. Lythdan, it is probable this is all just a figment of your imagination! There are no Dementors outside Ministry control, and why on earth would the Ministry order two Dementors to be away from their posts in Azkaban?" she laughed, her voice sounded like it had been coated in honey and sugar for an hour, thrown into an oven and then overcooked.

After given her sentence further thought, her face hardened. Her voice suddenly harsh, she exclaimed, "It must be Kingsley Shacklebolt! He's in charge of the hunt for Sirius Black...and he must be trying to discredit me! He would have the authority to order those Dementors into that Muggle suburb..." she trailed off, looking quite odd. Her wide eyes shifted warily from Tonks's straight poker face, to Amy's crying one. "Well, that's enough of that!" she shouted. Tonks looked behind her to see if anyone was there and could have heard. But the Ministry was as deserted as it usually was at this time of night. Only Aurors and the Daily Prophet team worked this late. Sometimes the Department of Magical Law Enforcement did go this late, as well as the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts, but it seemed like tonight was not one of those nights.

"Is it possible He Who Must Not Be Named has gotten to the Dementors?" Amy asked rubbing her eyes. "Because were done for if he has!" she continued hysterically.

Umbridge openly glared at Amy, and said, her voice back to its honey-baked style, "Miss Tonks, it is quite obvious that Mrs. Lythdan here has been having some strong hallucinations. I want you to escort her to St. Mungo's immediately, but I must ask one more question of her before she leaves." Her voice lowered as if she did not want to be overheard, as if there were actually other people there. Turning to the hysterical, red-eyed woman, she asked, "Where were you when you saw this mirage?"

Amy shook her head, as if disagreeing with Umbridge that it was a mirage, or a hallucination, but she still answered the question. "I was on Magnolia Crescent, in Little Whinging, walking my uncle's energetic Jack Russell. It was his birthday...and then I saw them...the Dementors! I tried to create a Patronus, but I couldn't think of anything happy enough...and that boy...Merlin...that boy. I swear...he was the size of a baby whale...but the Dementor...it just went forward...and...Kissed him! I think I just stood there in shock, for a while... I was so frightened...I Apparated here..."

Umbridge was looking at her sceptically. "You are aware that preforming magic in front of Muggles in a criminal offence, Mrs. Lythdan?" Her face was contorted into a cruel smile.

Amy gasped, and said, "But...that Muggle was going to die!"

Tonks looked behind her again, but there was still no one there. Feeling decidedly paranoid, she turned back to Umbridge.

"Mrs. Lythdan, it seems like you need some time to rest. Miss Tonks, why don't you escort Mrs. Lythdan here to St. Mungo's? I hear there are some talented psychiatrists there, Fiona O'Loghlin, for instance, or Andrew Amyller?"

Her eyes opened wider at the sound of Andrew's name, and Amy shook her head again, and started to open her mouth, but then shut it again. "I..."

Tonks took a sweeping look at the gold banded watch she was wearing on her wrist, and mumbled, "I'm late for work."

Umbridge smiled again, and her face looked scary in the dim light of the Atrium. "I'll tell Scrimgeour you're going to be late." She let out a high-pitched, girlish giggle and said; "Now off you go!"

Holding on to Amy's arm, Tonks led her to the fireplace. She found the pot of Floo Powder and took out some of the green powder. Careful not to drop any, she asked Amy, "Would you like to go first?"

Amy nodded gratefully, stood in the grate and threw the powder into the fire. "St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries." The emerald green flames flared up, and Amy disappeared out of Tonks's view. Grabbing a fistful of Floo Powder, she copied her.

She didn't like Apparating, and Floo Powder definitely wasn't her favourite way to travel either. Tucking her elbows in tight, and doing her best not to open her mouth before she arrived at her destination, she arrived in the waiting room coughing and spluttering. She walked over to the Welcome Witch's desk, where said shift worker was dozing peacefully, her head lying on top of her crossed arms. Amy was already standing beside the desk, blowing her nose with a handkerchief.

Not willing to wake her up suddenly, she cleared her throat, and whispered, "Excuse me?"

The Welcome Witch showed no sign of stirring, and Tonks resisted the urge to pull on her long black hair and demand she wake up. She had to admit, it was probably pretty boring waiting here for people to come. No-one usually came at night, unless there was an emergency. The only people here at night were the night Healers, taking care of the patients, and the patients themselves.

Most of the staff here were most likely restless, since they had been here the whole day, since the strike had started when the shifts changed, making sure there were as many workers there as possible. Realising there was a small, gold coloured hand bell sitting on the desk, which she hadn't seen at first because it was partly obscured by her hair. Regretting having to do so, she rang the bell loudly in the unfortunate woman's ear.

"Wha?" The Welcome Witch awoke with a start. Surprised that there was actually any-one here in the waiting room this early in the morning, she yawned and said sleepily, "Good morning, welcome to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. How may I help you?"

"Er…yes…I think she's," she gestured to Amy who was still making small sobbing sounds, "I think she's come across some Dementors."

The Welcome Witch flicked her hair behind her back and sighed. She wearily bent down and opened a drawer in her desk, re-emerging with a bar of chocolate in her hand. "Eat this."

Unwrapping the metallic silver packaging on the chocolate, Amy clumsily fed herself a block of chocolate. She offered some to Tonks, but she shook her head.

She approached the Welcome Witch again, and whispered, "I think the Minister wanted her checked out by a psychologist or something. Seemed to think she might have some sort of psychological problem or something." Tonks sort of nudged the woman in the shoulder, because she looked liable to fall asleep again any minute.

She sighed again in a way that seemed to say, 'isn't the chocolate enough?' but she kindly refrained from putting her head in her hands. "Spell Damage. Fourth Floor. Ana Moon ward."

"Thank-you. We'll be on our way now." Seizing Amy by the arm again, she led the sniffling woman through the door up. Working her way up to the fourth floor, she felt frustrated. Hadn't she walked up here before? Hadn't she just left here? Had the Healers (the day shift ones, at least) gone straight home with hearts full of happiness with their increased salaries. She had been at the Ministry for half an hour, tops. How could the clutter in the waiting room have been cleaned, how could have the patients, (though there wasn't really that many at this time of year) been moved back into their rooms in that time? Well, she could think of one word for her rather rhetorical question, and that word was magic. The Healer's really hadn't missed a spot, had they? Keeping up with their stringent hygiene standards, there was not even a stain on the carpet.

The brightly lit hallways did not help much either. She felt like every replenished candle was watching her, like she was doing something wrong. She felt like they were talking into her ears. But candles were only ever candles, and didn't have eyes, ears or mouths, and couldn't be doing anything of the sort.

Once again in front of the Ana Moon ward, she raised a fist to knock at the door. Remembering the last time she was here, (about two hours ago) and what had occurred there, she grimaced. Hoping it wasn't dark, and whoever was inside was awake, she knocked on the door.

No answer yet again.

Attributing this to the person inside being asleep, she cautiously turned the wooden door handle. "Hello?" she called out, "is someone there?"

"Who's that?" asked a drowsy male voice from beyond the door.

Not stopping to think about how ridiculous it sounded, she responded, "It's me. I'm escorting a patient, Amy Lythdan." She pushed the door open, and opened with slight creak. She stepped into the room, pulling Amy along behind her.

She saw the cheerful figure of Andrew Amyller sitting on one of the chairs in the deserted ward. "Hello Me," he said, his small cloudy blue eyes twinkling. As Amy followed her through the door, Amyller gasped, and jumped out of his chair. "Amy! You were meant to be visiting Uncle Sam tonight! What on earth happened?"

"She came across some Dementors while she was walking a dog." Amy nodded, confirming this story.

"Hmm..." he muttered, rubbing his roughly cut brown beard, "Did you have any chocolate?"

Amy nodded, and showed Amyller the wrapper of the chocolate bar. She looked a little bit happier now she had consumed the chocolate.

"The Minister think she may be delusional." Tonks pointed out to Amyller, so he could see exactly where this conversation was.

Amy sat down on the bed catiously, looking warily at Amyller.

"Don't worry big sis, I'll take care of you, lie down."

Amy made a small attempt at a smile, and lay down on top of the white sheets of the hospital bed. Amyller looked at Tonks as if he had just for the first time truly realised she was there, and whispered, "The Minister thinks an awful lot of herself, but don't tell her I said that!"

After reassuring Amyller that she wouldn't tell Umbridge, she set off to walk downstairs again to Apparate. In St. Mungo's it was only possible to Apparate and Disapparate from the waiting room. She made her way back downstair, and upon doing so, saw that the Welcome Witch was asleep yet again, this time snoring rather loudly. She smiled and Apparated back to Atrium. The Ministry had similar Apparation wards to St. Mungo's, with one difference. The Ministry's ones fell down more often for no apparent reason. Even in the first war, no Death Eaters had attacked St. Mungo's in a group. They had just inflirated the Healers.

Loosing her balance upon arriving at her destination, she tried to steady herself. Tripping over her own feet, she fell flat on her back, hitting it hard on the rich wooden floorboards in the Atrium. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the peacock blue ceiling above her and stood back to her feet, not before tying her shoelace.

She made her way to the lift, and entered it. She hastily pressed the button for level one, and it descended. Shejust waited, and watched the three inter-departmentalmemos flit above her head. She smiled as one that someone had folded into the shape of a swan flew past her eyes. Some people here liked origami, she deduced.

"_...the Department of Magical Law Enforcement._" Tonks realised with a halt that the lift had stopped. Not waiting for the lady to finish announcing the floor, she stepped out into the narrow hallway leading to the Auror cubicles. Before she could move to her cubicle, at the very end of the row, (she was the newest Auror, and only one of two females currently employed as an Auror).

"Tonks, I've been waiting for you." Scrimgeour limped slowly towards her, looking a bit hassled. It was hard to tell though, since his tawny hair lay on his head perfectly as it always did, and his wire rimmed glasses were perched in their rightful place on his nose.

"I'm sorry, I thought the Minister was to tell you I was to be late." Tonks uneasily smoothed out her robes. She disliked talking to Scrimgeour. There was something about him that just made you feel like he always had to be right.

"She did. I was still waiting for you, though. I have a job for you." He leant against his cubicle door. Being the Head Auror, his cubicle was bigger, nicer, and otherwise fancier than all the other Aurors. It should be, considering the amount of time he spent in there.

"A job for me? What do you mean by that?" She nervously scuffed the floor with the tip of her show, and took a glance out the window, and decided the Magical Maintanince people had been drinking--there was heavy sunlight streaming through the window.

"I want you to track down the victims of the Dementor attacks in Surrey. The ones that have suffered from the Kiss." That made sense. Scrimgeour was holding a chocolate bar in his hand. He was also allergic to chocolate. But one thing didn't make sense.

"Victim_s?" _she asked faintly. "As in more than one?"

"Yes, as in at least four. We're trying to make sure it doesn't get into the Prophet either." He withdrew an embroided handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped his glasses.

"But...Amy's the editor of the Prophet..."

Scrimgeour suddenly knocked on his cubicle door loudly, scaring Tonks half out of her wits. "The walls have ears, and doors have eyes. Things may be figments of people's imaginations, but this is not it. This is news. The Prophet is bound to try and break any interesting news stories. They will find out about this, all in due course. The important thing is we find those Muggles, even though there's really not much good we can do for them. They're pretty much dead now. It's like having a shell with no peanut inside. Not quite pleasing." He grimaced, and handed Tonks the chocolate.

"That's if you come across the Dementors while trying to find the victims."

Tonks sighed, and asked, "Do I have to wear the Auror Robes?" She really hoped she didn't. Those things were disgusting. A vivid purple bordered with yellow, those things had been out since the start of Hogwarts. And to make it even more potentially embarrassing for whomever was unfortunate enough to have to wear them, they were only used if there was business in the Muggle world.

"No, no, fortunately not." He chuckled at the relieved look on Tonks's face. "If you ever have to wear them on an expedition to the Muggle world, just be glad you're not male. Look, you better get going before the number increases. Here, I'll give you a Portkey. I'm counting on you Tonks, you said you wanted to do more field work. I need your report, because the Minister--" he cast a wary look at the lift, "is not very helpful. But I think now comes the time to accept that He Who Must Not Be Named is back, and we as Aurors..."

"It's our job." Tonks finished the sentence for him.

He nodded, and gave Tonks the crumpled parchment he had just bewitched. "Remember, this is your first real field job. Do you remember the Patronus Charm?"

Tonks nodded. She hadn't practiced the charm against areal Dementorsince she got her licence, but she was still pretty good at it.

"I wish you a good morning."

Tonks nodded, and counted down the Portkey. Hard to believe a few hours before hand she was in a good mood. And remembering Umbridge's varying facial expressions, it was hard to believe she wasn't involved as well.

The room spun dizzingly again, and she felt sick. What would you call it, Portsick? She stood down in a brightly lit suburban street. The first uneasing thing she noticed is that every house looked identical to the one beside it. The second thing was that it seemed like another unfortunate Muggle seemed to be losing his soul to a Dementor, just away the corner, and she could just see.

Tonks felt like she was about to be sick. She didn't think it should be called the Dementor's 'Kiss.' It was more like it was sucking his face off, really. But in slang terms, that meant exactly the same thing.

The third uneasing thing she noticed is that this was the Muggle her and Remus had talked to when they picked Harry up. He was wearing the same jogging costume, and with the energetic Jack Russell. And the fourth thing, which made her feel even worse, was that with a sudden, horrible, realization is that it must be Amy's Uncle Sam.

Without even thinking, she rushed forward. She had to stop that Dementor, had to. Running down to the Dementor, she raised her wand, and called, "Expecto Patronum!"

Problem number one: She couldn't think of anything happy. Problem number two: The other Dementor was gaining on her, and she didn't have anytime to raise anything in defense. Not that she had anything. Although if she was really despertate, she could use the bar of chocolate as a shield of some sort.

But she felt the effects of the Dementors come on, and she was suddenly devoid of happy memories. Forcing the words to roll off her tongue, she chanted slowly, "E-expect...P-patronum..." Wisps of silver shot out of the edge of her wand, but that didn't stop her. She remembered now. Dementors affected her very badly, even though she may not have more horrible memories than other people.

Feeling strangely depressed, she dropped to her knees, and scrunched her eyes tight. She could hear voices in her head. If voices were the first sign of madness, what was the second?

_"You're useless. You won't get anywhere. Send me a check from your ground kissing job when you get one, if you get one. You don't have the motivation. You're worthless! YOU'RE UNTEACHABLE! I REFUSE TO DO THIS!" _Some kind words from her Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher in seventh year.

For some reason, she couldn't make out the rest. It was like an out of tune radio. But she could still feel like she was going to lose conciousness. But two words, as clear as jagged crystals, shot through her mind.

"MINISTER, NO!"

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_Thoughts and Pondering._


	8. The Eye of a Storm

**Wrongful Imprisonment: By Thoughts and Pondering**

**That's the way the world is now. **

**Chapter Eight: The Eye of a Storm **

**Ninth of August 1995.**

Woozily, Tonks opened her eyes. As soon as she saw the blinding white of the walls, a hand shoved a huge lump of chocolate in her mouth. Hacking as the chocolaty goodness tried to go down her windpipe, she managed to swallow it. Opening her eyes wider, she saw Amy on the bed next to her, twiddling her thumbs, staring at the cracks in the ceiling in a air eerily reminiscent to James's it was scary.

Remembering the Dementors she sat bolt upright. Feeling beads of cold sweat on her forehead, she gasped and fell backwards as she realised she had a damp bandage on her head. A Healer came running in. Fiona. The brunette looked happier than Tonks had seen before. She cheerfully walked to Amy and added a vial of substance to the jug on her bedside table, going to the candle and replenishing the wax. She then edged to attend to Tonks's bandage with the jug of water.

Her eyes caught Tonks's and she jumped, nearly sloshing half the contents of the jug down her front. "Merlin's beard, you gave me a fright, I didn't know you were awake yet. Here, let me sit you upright."

"I'm fine, I'll do it myself," she said sluggishly, trying to force her self to sit up. Her body ached all over, and felt like she had been trampled by a herd of rampaging hippogriffs. Feeling like there was something she was missing, she immediately remembered. "Fiona," she started hoarsely, and then clearing her throat, continued, "Fiona, what happened to that Muggle, er...Sam, or something."

Fiona set the jug back on the table, giving Amy a wet rag. Her features smoothened, and in an oddly distant voice, she said, "You can't save everyone, Miss Tonks." She retrieved some pillows from a vacant pillow and gently helped Tonks into an upright position, leaving the pillows behind her for support.

Tonks noted when she said her name, she sounded oddly Dolores Umbridge.

With a horrible, sinking feeling in her stomach, she asked, "Did that Muggle lose his soul then?"

Fiona looked uncomfortable about all the talk of Dementors, shifted a pile of parchment away from a burning cauldron on the bench, and with her back turned to Tonks, replied, "Yes. And you're lucky the same didn't happen to you!"

"What do you mean?" Tonks asked, mystified. "I only passed out."

Fiona turned around quickly, her eyes wide and bulging, making her look very like her elder cousin. Her face had paled a couple of tones. "Only passed out? Do you have any idea what you're talking about? You nearly lost your soul to that Dementor; if you had been one second earlier...there would have been no going back..."

"Explain this to me. I nearly died? What happened...did I lose part of my soul or something?"

Fiona shook her head, causing her messy bun to wobble. "No, no, you have your whole soul. You..." she sad with a kind of shine in her eye. "You were...for lack of better words...nearly lost...we had to employ an experimental potion, or you would have drifted into a coma. You have an...allergy of sorts...to Dementors."

Feeling her heart jump into her throat, she calmed down and figured out that she was breathing and had control of her thoughts and was very much occupying her body, so thus the experimental potion must have worked. "God, you really know how to scare a person, don't you?"

Fiona smiled and walking back to the water jug, and pouring herself a cup of water, said, "It is acclaimed that most psychiatrists acquire some sort of mental problem, Miss Tonks."

Feeling like there was some side to the story Fiona wasn't telling her, and not caring how it had happened, she realised she could see the whole ward from this position. The ward had eight beds, seven including her own being currently occupied. She knew that this ward was specialised in Dementor victims. What the hell had happened?

"Fiona, why are there so many people in here?" she asked, trying to move her body but failing miserably.

Fiona, who was moving away with the jug of water, didn't look back, but replied, "People recovering from the Dementor attacks of last week."

"Seven people!" Tonks exclaimed, horrified. "Have they found the Dementors yet?"

Fiona, mopping the brow of a person slightly out of Tonks's sight made to reply, but someone interrupted her. "I went after them myself, Tonks," said a weary voice. "No cigar. Another team of Aurors managed to dispatch the Dementors back to Azkaban yesterday, luckily." She recognized that voice. Rufus Scrimgeour? He had been attacked by the Dementors? Public morale must be at an all time low.

There was a knock on the door, and slightly hassled, Fiona moved to open it. Only when she walked past did Tonks see that she had black circles around her eyes, she looked horrible, like if she hadn't slept in three days.

"Oh, hello Mr. Potter, Mr. Lupin, Mr. Shacklebolt," Kingsley and Remus entered the room, kind of dragging James between them.

James and Kingsley, (who Tonks realised was still holding James in an Auror's Escort grip), walked in. "Wotcher, Remus," Tonks said tiredly. He walked over to her, while James and Kingsley walked over to Fiona. If she had been here for a week...then it must be time for his weekly check-up. He looked fine.

Fiona, on the bed opposite Scrimgeour's, was pushing someone back into a bed. "You need sleep. You need to recover," she said softly, coaxing the person back into the bed.

"Fi, I'm _fine,_" said a cheerful, though exasperated, voice. "I want to help." Fiona did not say anything, but pushed him gently back.

Amyller? He was in here too? For from Tonks's point of view, that's who it certainly was.

Fiona waved to James and Kingsley, and mouthed, "I'll be there in a minute." She walked over to Tonks and poured her a cup of the greenish water that had the potion added to it. She gave it to Remus, and whispered something she could not hear to him. Remus accepted the glass of water and smiled. He lifted it in front of her face, while obscuring his own. She could see the blurred outline of Remus's features through the glass.

"Tonks, you need to drink this," he said kindly, tipping it towards her mouth.

Tonks did not open her mouth, keeping her lips tightly sealed. "I'm not thirsty," she said stubbornly.

Remus smiled, brown eyes twinkling through the glass. "That's alright, it's not meant to quench your thirst."

Looking around, her eyes darting from place to place, (she could only move her face, the rest of her body was too weak to move) she saw that everyone else in the room was very much occupied. She looked to Remus, her chocolate brown 'natural' eyes pleaded at him. "Will I be alright?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

Remus bit his lip and did not respond for a few seconds. "Come on," he coaxed, "This potion'll make it all better."

Tonks opened her mouth slightly, and Remus held the drink on an angle so it trickled down her throat. Tonks felt a little drowsy. "I feel fuzzy," she said tiredly.

"It's one of the side effects of the potion. Go to sleep and you'll feel better in the morning."

His voice sounded so hypnotizing that Tonks obeyed, closing her eyes. As soon as she did so, she fell asleep. Before she did, she was aware of one thing. He was holding her hand.

_Dream/Flashback._

_"Nymphadora, please behave. Mummy's trying to help her work friends get more money for our work." They were in the Atrium of the Ministry, the rest of the Department of Magical Transportation were lining up with picket signs and wands, all of them blocking the fireplaces. Some of them held brooms in their hands, some pots of floo powder. One adventurous person had acquired a magic carpet, which had paint scrawled across it, in a message with a spell on it Tonks didn't recognize. _

_Andromeda Tonks tutted, shaking her head, her long brown hair that had been passed down to her only daughter, waving behind her._

_"A strike." Tonks declared, looking at the blocked fireplaces longingly. Why couldn't she have gone with her dad to work instead...she could have gotten lots of free lollies. She loved Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. She loved surprises. She straightened her robes and wandered off; her mum was involved in a conversation with one of her work friends. _

_Looking around, she wondered if there were any other children here. In the corner, she saw a cluster of children. Three of the girls had their hair in plaits. Shaking her own multi-coloured braids, Tonks looked at them with distaste. This was too boring. _

_Suddenly, there was a clanging sound like a gong, but it only lasted for a few seconds. Tonks jumped, and then looked around to see if anyone had seen her flinch. No-one had, but the adults were looking concerned. Over in the far corner near the fireplaces, she saw her mother tutting, shaking her head and muttering some inaudible words to another person. The person's worried look disappeared immediately, and she passed the message onto another person. The message went around the room, and all the concern was gone, the adults were striking with renewed fervor yet again. _

_The short eight year old easily disappeared among the throng of adults. She was short for her age, but she didn't mind. She liked being short. Smiling as she tugged on her braids, she moved silently to the other corner of the room. _

_Then there was silence. A long horrible silence where everyone in the room stared at a spot Tonks could not properly see from her rather short stature. Standing on her toes, she lost her balance and fell over, toppling into a fireplace as she did so. After inhaling a mouthful of ashes, she slowly stood up again. The room was still silent. _

_Then, only seconds later, the screaming began. Before she could even understand what had happened, there were spells flinging in all directions, though since most of these were aimed at grown wizard's chest, they flew harmlessly over Tonks's head. Hearing some anguished cries in one corner, and sobbing in another, Tonks quietly slunk into the only fireplace that mantelpiece did not land a risk of breaking off and hitting her on the head. _

_Feeling faint and shivery, Tonks hugged her knees, glad that she was able to fit in the fireplace. She tried to see where her mother was out of the corner of her eye. She was at the furthest fireplace from Tonks, crouched precautiously on the mantelpiece looking like a cat ready to pounce. Brown eyes darting from place to place, Andromeda lifted her hands up and pulled herself up onto the window ledge two metres above. _

_Tonks buried her face into the bottom off her robe. If anyone looked into this ash-filled fireplace, they weren't going to see her cry. She was going to be strong. She was going to try and live. She was going to try to stop crying. But more warm tears fell on her robes, leaving trails of dirt on her already grubby face. Looking at her plait, she saw it had turned brown. She could not deny that she was scared. She was scared. She shivered. What happened if she was stuck in here...and no one found her? What if she died of starvation? _

_What if the men in the black robes and white masks...Death Eaters, they were called, what if they found her first? She didn't want to think about it._

_She wanted to wake up. For this all had to be a horrible nightmare, didn't it. She was going to wake up, she was going to be in a warm, comfy bed somewhere, somewhere she was safe, somewhere where all this terror was over, somewhere where she understood. _

_She clamped her hands over her ears; a desperate attempt to block out the sound of what must be people dying out there, in the Atrium. But who would look in here, for a worthless eight-year-old girl? Maybe her dad would come eventually...when he knew where she was. He and Mum didn't get along very well anymore, always fighting about money, her, family, her, work, her, Krispy (their pet Krup) and her. _

_Her mother had dragged her here. She wished harder than anything that she were with her father, at Honeydukes, watching him sell candy to little chubby toddlers. She wished...and wished, and opened her eyes. She was still in the dark, with light coming through the grate in the middle that she had squeezed through. Crouching down, she looked through, and it was quiet. Most of the people must have fled or been taken along by friends, because there weren't many people standing up, although there were a little more bodies littering the floor. _

_She felt sick, but leant back, out of sight of any mean men who may be on the hunt for little girls lingering where they shouldn't be. She felt like she was playing hide and seek, back at her Muggle grandparent's place. They were the only people who ever bothered to play with her. Her dad did sometimes, but he was always busy, working longer and longer for measly wages as a cashier at Honeydukes. He blamed this on her mother, whom he claimed couldn't hold a job down for more than sixth months. _

_At least when he talked badly about her mother, it was the truth. She loved her grandparents. They were the only people who made her feel special, as well as her father. She had never even seen her mother's family; except for that one time...she had been hiding in the pantry, only a week before, hoping to surprise her mother when she came home from work. _

_She was late that night. And as usual, everyone had forgotten Tonks was there at all. She had blended in with the walls of the house so well that she might just as well be another spice on the spice rack, for all it mattered to them. Her father was sleeping in a spare room above Honeyduke's, which the owner of the shop said he could use if he ever had the need. _

_He spent more time there than at home now. And her mother was meant to be home when her grandparents dropped her. She had been with them for a week, and slowly beginning to believe that some of her mother's sharp words were true. Was it really true that no one could handle her for more than a week at a time? They had seen a Magical Development healer at St. Mungo's, and she said Tonks had 'erratic' magic. Magic that flowed out of her, and tried to touch her surroundings, trying to bring magic in them. Everyone's magic did this, hers more than others. She never fully understood, though the Healer had explained, in a kind, helpful voice, is that was why she could change her hair and eyes funny colours. _

_She was going to learn how to control her magic; she was going to keep her hair a colour she liked. Pink. She had breathed heavily, inching the door open a bit to let out some of the stale air. _

_Resignedly, she had come to the conclusion that her mother wasn't going to come back for a while, and she had nearly went upstairs when she heard the front door opening. Not wanting to waste this opportunity, she crept back into the pantry. But she then heard two more voices, as well as her mother's, bickering quietly as they stepped inside. _

_One had been gruff, almost like a man's, but was most likely just a low-toned female. The other was definitely feminine. She had left a small crack in the door to look through, so she could see when the best time to surprise them was. _

_But there had been something scary about these women. Both of them wore black hoods, but one of them had already taken hers off, blonde hair shining like cats eyes in the darkest caves, she did. _

_The other one had taken off her hood moments after her companion, and she saw the woman. A heart-shaped face, much like her own, but with heavy-lidded eyes and thick black hair reaching her shoulders in a man's haircut. _

_The dark one had spoken first, in her masculine voice, "It has certainly been a long time for family to be separated, sister." She had said the final word mockingly, as if she had been challenging her mother to fight back. And Tonks knew her mother was no coward. She would stand up for herself, especially if she had a plate of food on hand. _

_However, she had just cowered, and glanced at the table she sat beside, she did not even meet the woman's eyes. _

_"But of course, you wouldn't consider us family anymore, would you...not after marrying that Mudblood scum...as it has conveniently popped up in the conversation, how is that little project getting along?"_

_Andromeda inhaled, and gave a small incline of the head that could have been a shake or a nod. The dark woman was probably much more skilled at interpreting body language than she, because she immediately replied, in a dark voice which suited her dark looks, "if you do not do the job, then we shall do it for you. It a much more violent manner than you would otherwise prefer..." the woman had picked up a snail that has been slowly ambling its way up table, leaving a trail in the dust. She had held it right in front of Andromeda's face, and had slowly squashed it between her thumb and index finger to illustrate her point. _

_The blonde smirked, and flicked some of her long blonde hair behind her. "I have seen her progress from afar," she said. "The Mudblood now resides in the Honeyduke's attic. How fitting. A filthy place for filth." _

_The dark woman had smiled and had lifted her right hand and made a gesture that obviously meant, "give me the money." _

_She had reached into a pocket of her cloak, dragging out a heavy bag of money. She had undone the string, pouring galleons upon galleons of money into her younger sister's lap._

_"Excellent," the dark haired woman had muttered, giving an approving nod to the shiny one. She had then taken a handful of galleons of her lap, and thrown them at Andromeda. "Take it, for finding out how to disable the Ministry's wards. Don't spend it at Honeydukes. A toothache won't be the worst thing that'll happen to you." _

_She had pulled her cloak back over her face, the blonde following her. She had then woken up an hour later still in the pantry. Her mum had gone to bed already. Yet she was confused. They had all this money...yet she was giving it all to these women...her sisters. If the dark and blonde woman were complete contrasts of each other, then her mother was the piggy in the middle...the third wheel. _

_She didn't remember much after that, though she did remember waking up an hour later, ad then walking to bed. _

_But that knowledge didn't help her much now. She was stuck in a fireplace, too scared to go out, but also too scared to stay still like a sitting duck. Awkwardly, she moved her head out of the fireplace and stepped out. There was still some fighting. _

_Suddenly, she heard someone scream. "MINISTER, NO!" Tonks saw a purple-clad Auror run forward as a body fell downward. She didn't want to look. She just ran. She didn't know where she was running; she could run into a wall and not know it. Most of the strikers had escaped, though some of the Aurors were injured. That was evident. _

_Another blood-curling scream sounded from above her. There was a sound, a falling sound, rushing wind, and then darkness. _

_Then, like someone lighting a candle in the corner of the darkness, she found herself in another room. She was wrapped around her father's legs, head buried within the folds of his cloak. She heard her father's voice ask a question. _

_"Is she going to be alright?" _

_Tonks continued to cry into her fathers robes. She knew, just knew, and if she looked, she would not like what she would see. _

_After what seemed to be the sound of a door slamming in the distance, a feminine voice answered, "We're running a diagnosis right now. Broken bones are not a problem, very easy to fix with the right spells, but we suspect she has snapped her spinal cord. Healing injuries like that can prove to be very tricky. It is very hard to try to connect it again. Such attempts can be fatal…and I am sorry if this is a bit blunt, but the fatalities usually outnumber the successes."_

_Tonks wiped her eyes on her father's robes and looked around her. There were in a ward, most possibly at St. Mungo's. She hated the place. It smelt like eggplant. Or the smell she usually associated with eggplant, only ever seeing the odd shaped vegetable once in her life. Her mother was lying in the bed, in a rather awkward position, since the Healers didn't want to move her too much because that could be potentially fatal. _

_"So what can we do?" her father asked in a whisper. She hated how his voice cracked halfway as he said this. She hated seeing men cry. _

_"We can either try an operation, which only has a fifty percent chance of success, or in some rare cases, only known to happen in magical peoples, is that the cord will somehow reconnect itself. _

_ Tonks stumbled out of the protection of her father's robes, looking at the Healer with wide eyes. _

_The Healer smiled when she saw Tonks. She smoothed her starched white robes, and knelt down to her eye level. "Hello. Would you like a lolly?" she gestured to a bowl on a nearby stand. _

_Tonks shook her head, resisting the urge to suck her thumb like an infant. _

_"Hmm…" the Healer muttered to herself as she replenished the candle on the bedside table. She looked at Tonks, who had resumed clutching at her father's leg, then to her father. "Are you sure you want to go through with her Obliviation?" the Healer asked. "She looks awfully young…how old is she?" the Healer asked curiously. _

_"Eight." Another thing to add to the things she hated. How rigidly her father was speaking. _

_"Actually, I'm eight and a half." _

_The Healer's eyes widened, and she stepped backwards. "I don't think there will be any side effects," she said, as she nodded her head vigorously. "But…" she started as she regained her composure, "…are you still sure you want to do this? She won't remember what really happened, although we can organize so she remembers fuzzy details, so there isn't a huge blank when she tries to remember this incident at a later date." She finished hastily. _

_Her father nodded. "I think it'll be for the best. I hope that when she is older, this whole mess will be over. There's been less…incidents like this now some of the…people involved…have been sent to Azkaban…" _

_"You may think that, but this is really just the eye of a storm." The Healer replied._

_End Dream/Flashback_

_Tonks woke up bolt upright, falling down backwards as her muscles complained. Trying to reassure herself, she tried to tell herself it was a nightmare, but it didn't work. Playing through the dream in her head like a movie, she realized one thing. _

_She still didn't understand. _

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_Sorry for not updating in two weeks! I rewrote this chapter so many times. I still have the first time saved on a floppy, and it is very different from the final product. Oh, and Tonks's story has a lot do with the storyline, as you'll discover later…_

_Next chapter: We see James and Harry together again, and Tonks goes home for the first time in two years. _

_Til next time, _

_Thoughts and Pondering._


	9. Carpe Diem

**Wrongful Imprisonment by Thoughts and Pondering**

**Chapter Nine: Carpe Diem.**

**Eleventh of August, 1995. **

"This is ridiculous," Ron said vehemently, good-naturedly up turning the chess set. "I forfeit. There's only one way out, and that's only going to lead to checkmate."

James Potter, who was sitting on the other side of the board, raised his eyebrows. "I didn't see that."

Ron contemplated this as he stared at the pile of chess pieces on his lap that were now picking themselves up. He watched as his black king dusted off its queen. "Oh, well it's a bit late now." He picked the pieces up and shoved them back into the marble board they originated from. "Those pieces kept trying to tell me what to do!"

James rubbed his glasses with the sleeve of the wooly second hand jumper he was wearing. "Well," he yawned, "I'm tired."

Sirius, who was watching the chess match in a chair a little bit off the table, leaned back on the hind legs of his chair. He swung the chair back down, landing with a thud. "Wait," Sirius said, "Didn't you say you'd talk to Harry today?"

James's hazel eyes wandered around the room, finally resting on the cobwebbed grandfather clock in the corner. The clock ticked over to six past seven. Suddenly his voice was very harsh, like two blunt rocks rubbing together. "I am _very _tired," he said bluntly. Before Sirius could do anything, James picked up the last remaining white pawn off the coaster and handed it to Ron.

Ron nodded and accepted the straggler. "Thank-you for the game, Mr. Potter." He folded the chessboard up. He slid it across the kitchen table to Sirius, who tucked it under his arm. He looked at James for a few moments and persisted, "Prongs, you said you'd talk to Harry."

James stared at Sirius for a few moments and stifled a yawn that Sirius highly suspected was fake. "I _said _I was _tired._"

Sirius shook his head, leaning back on his chair again. "You also said you would talk to Harry." He banged the chair again on the floor, and there was the sound of wood hitting stone.

"I—" Without any warning, James let out a huge sneeze, with no time to cover his mouth.

Slightly disgusted and not desiring to be covered in spittle, Sirius moved his chair back a few inches, and stared at James who was wiping his runny nose with the sleeve of his jumper. "Bless you," Sirius muttered, edging away a little further. After James sneezed repeatedly five times in a row, Sirius asked him, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," James declared, "I don't need your help!" he added as Sirius walked towards him. He pushed roughly past Sirius and up to the front hall. Sirius just sat down again, rubbing his shoved shoulder.

"Is there a specific reason why he's ignoring me?" someone behind him asked.

Sirius whirled around. Harry had just slinked into the room. His glasses were sliding on his nose. He pushed them up, and took the seat nearest Sirius.

Sirius sighed, looking at the door James had just exited. He then glanced at Harry, who was looking at him like he was expecting an answer. He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, kiddo. I don't think it's any specific reason, I think there's a bunch of different reasons that all make up the big reason."

"D'you have any idea what these reasons are?

Sirius shook his head. "I have as much of an idea as you, Harry. He's been ignoring me as well for the past few days. Though I think it has something to do…" he faltered, then continued, "I think it has something to do with your mother's death."

Harry wiped his glasses, and slid off the chair. "I just wish he'd talk to me."

"Apart from the first few days, he hasn't been talking to anyone much."

Harry, who was about to walk out of the room, doubled back. "Apart from Ron," he muttered.

"Well, yes, he does talk to Ron."

"But he still won't go anywhere near me without a six-foot pole," Harry said bitterly.

"Tonks is coming back today," Sirius said, abruptly changing the subject.

Harry moved back to the wooden dining chair and sat down. "Yeah," he said, pulling a face, "She's nice."

"Moony's gone to take her back here," Sirius said, trying to get Harry's mind of his father.

"Mmhmm…" Harry groaned and leapt out of his chair and ran out the door, and made his way up the staircase.

The doorbell suddenly rang, and Sirius winced. He had told the Order members not to ring the doorbell because it would…

"CREATURES OF FILTH! BEFOULING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS…"

…because it would awaken his mother's portrait.

Running up to the door to let in the person on the other side, (he had a nagging feeling it was Remus and Tonks), he shouted over the din his mother was creating, "WHO IS IT?"

"It's Remus and Tonks."

Suspicions were confirmed. It was them. Tonks was leaning on Remus's shoulder for support. It seemed like she had managed to turn her hair pink, but had not managed to turn it spiky.

"Wotcher, Sirius," Tonks said tiredly. After steadying herself, she managed to stand upright after swaying a bit. "I feel like an overcooked noodle," she said woozily.

Sirius smiled at them and ran to the moth-eaten curtains that his mother's portrait was under. He yanked them together, and oddly enough, today the curtains weren't putting up a fight. Her shrieking, frothing face disappeared behind the curtains.

"So how are you, Tonks?" He stepped backwards to let the two of them in. A single gust of cool air hit him in the face.

Tonks walked inside the house along with Remus and Sirius closed the door behind them. She smiled crookedly. "I'm feeling a little bit better than I was yesterday. Oh, and Fiona said James's next check up session with her is cancelled. Her grandfather died yesterday, I think, and she's going to his funeral."

"Wait a second," Sirius said, "Isn't Umbridge Fiona's cousin?"

"Yeah," Tonks said absently, leaning against an umbrella stand that was made out of what looked suspiciously like a troll's foot, "But Umbridge is related to Fiona on her mother's side of the family, and this was her father's father. Any reason you wanted to know?"

"No, not really," Sirius shook his head.

Remus walked towards Sirius, and asked, "Sirius, where's James?"

Sirius shrugged his shoulders. "Apparently, he was tired and went to bed."

Tonks yawned and stood up straight again. "I'm tired too. All I want to do is sleep. Looks like I'll have to crash here for tonight, Sirius. I have to do something tomorrow," she said pointedly, making her way to one of the bedrooms.

After hearing the door close upstairs, Sirius asked Remus, "What does she want to do?" he whispered quietly.

"I think she wants to visit her parents tomorrow."

"Andromeda?"

"Yes, I think that's what her mother's name is."

"Molly made some spaghetti," Sirius said, changing the subject entirely. "There's some left in the kitchen."

"Thanks, I feel rather hungry," Remus replied.

"Why is everyone in this house either food-deprived or sleep-deprived?"

"I don't know. How about that spaghetti?"

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Tonks was already half-awake when she heard someone pull open her bedroom curtains. The effect of the morning summer sunlight streaming in the now clean window and onto her closed eyelids was immediate. Her eyes snapped open and she raised a hand to shield her eyes.

"Up and at 'em, Tonks!" Sirius shouted noisily, banging a spoon against the bowl he was carrying.

"Wotcher Sirius," Tonks muttered groggily, "What time is it?"

Tapping his spoon again against the rim of the porridge filled bowl, Sirius answered, "The birds are singing, the sun is shining, and thus has the day has begun!"

Tonks snorted, wrapped the blankets tighter around her and rolled over. "It's still too bloody early."

"I bring food!" Sirius exclaimed, tapping the bowl repeatedly.

"I hear that!" Tonks's voice was muffled under the covers. "Why can't you bring peace instead?"

"Ouch, Tonks, but seriously, I do. Didn't you want to do something today?"

Tonks sighed and pushed the blankets off her face. "I need to see my parents."

Sirius rubbed his chin, sitting on the end of Tonks's bed. They were in one of the spare rooms at Grimmauld Place. There were pink curtains that had been pulled back, a small coffee table in the corner, and not much else. There was no carpet or stone on the floor, it looked like poured concrete.

"Your mum and dad?"

"Yeah."

Sirius shifted on the bed, and it let out a loud creak. "When was the last time you saw them?"

Tonks got up and stretched her arms up high above her head, and straightened the covers quickly. The covers were pink as well. The only thing she liked pink was hair. But this room was so pink, so vividly pink it was quite a hideous sight to behold. "Christmas two years ago. Let's just say the whole thing was a fiasco. My father had a concussion after his pet owl pecked him in the head repeatedly. After that, I think he had to wear an eye-patch for a week."

"His owl's a nutter."

"Well…" Tonks muttered, "Feather Duster is not known to be the most sane of postal birds."

"Your father named his owl Feather Duster? I can now see why it is traumatised."

"Yes…rather. The funny thing is I haven't gotten any mail from them in over a year. My twenty-third birthday card, was the last post I received from them. I hope they haven't moved or anything recently. I'm using the return address on the back of the envelope. They sent it to me through the Muggle mail. Mum and Dad are trying to live a Muggle lifestyle. Never understood why. Things like cooking and cleaning are so much easier with magic."

Sirius bounded off the bed again. "True," he stated. "But think of all the trouble magic causes. Most magical people don't value patience these days, because they think magic can always provide an answer. Or they wait for more intelligent witches or wizards for answers. These answers can't come out of nowhere."

"If people ask the Ministry, they'll get their answers from anywhere. Especially with Umbridge in charge."

"You see, the unfortunate thing in the wizarding world, is that the bad guys are smarter and competent then the good guys."

"Sirius, you're making it sound like we're in some sort of children's story book. Honestly, good guys and bad guys?"

"D'you want this porridge or not?"

Tonks groaned and sat back down on the bed heavily, her feet too cold against the bare grey floor. "Yes, I need something to aim at your head."

Eyes opening wider in alarm, Sirius backed away, "Alright, alright, I get the point; I'll go and let you get your beauty sleep."

Tonks let out a loud yawn. "Why bother? I'm awake now. As you said before, the sun is singing and the birds are shining. Let's go and embrace the day ahead of us!" she exclaimed, not noticing her mistake. "Carpe diem!" With newfound energy, she bounded out of the bed. The walls were pink too. Why hadn't she noticed that?

"Sirius, this room is too _pink._"

Sirius shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno why. I think when my brother was born, they were hoping for a girl."

"Was this your brother's room?"

"No, they gave him a different room when they discovered he was a boy."

She leapt out of the bed, and said, "I think I'll Floo there, since their house is connected to the Floo network. At least it was at the time they sent me the letter."

"And you bother about return addresses when their connected to the Floo Network. Honestly. How come you haven't seen them in so long…their not like my parents, are they?"

Tonks bit her lip. "I don't know. I guess it's just that they said they'd owl me once a month, and I haven't heard from them in so long…I guess I feel…I don't know…" she sighed, feeling suddenly lethargic again.

"It's alright Tonks, if you ever want to talk about it, let me know." He dropped the bowl of porridge down on the table, which had a single dusty pink doily. "If you want to make your way downstairs, James and Kingsley are eating breakfast. And…" he added quickly, seeing Tonks edge towards the bowl, "I think I'll make my exit before I get porridge dumped on my head."

"You are a wise one, aren't you?"

Sirius had already ducked out of the pink room. Tonks stood up and lifted the bowl full of steaming porridge. She breathed in deeply. It smelled wonderful. Walking cautiously, since the bowl was filled to the rim, she made her way downstairs.

In the kitchen, she found both James and Kingsley. Kingsley had a plate of uneaten jam toast behind the copy of the Daily Prophet he was reading. James was systematically making his way through a plate of cold left over spaghetti.

Tonks seated herself next to Kingsley, and realized she had forgotten a spoon. Making her way to the battered drawers, she managed to withdraw something that sort of resembled a spoon. She plunged it into her porridge, and managed to get a full spoonful of the soggy substance. Mmm…apricot. Wonderful.

As she ate her porridge, she asked Kingsley, "What's in the paper?"

Kingsley ruffled the pages and set it down. "Nothing interesting. Here, you can look at it if you like."

Tonks declined the offer, and quickly finished off her porridge. She bounded up the staircase to brush her hair. After going through the basic morning requirements of brushing her hair and teeth, she walked to the fireplace, in one of the main bedrooms upstairs. Sirius had told her that they were connected to Floo Network, but it was one-way only. Out.

Reaching for the rarely used pot of Floo powder on the mantelpiece, she froze. Could she really do this? Her parents had possibly forgotten of her mere existence by now… no, she told herself, she was being totally ridiculous. She had to do this. She had to find out the truth. Her hand shook as she took some Floo Powder. She did not want to do this, but she didn't want to not try and fail, like nearly everything else she had done in her life. Trying was the first step to failure, but it was also the first step to success. Not try at all, and you were doomed to fail.

"Carpe diem," she whispered, as she dropped the Floo Powder in the grate and stepped in.

Unfortunately, that was not her parents Floo address, and after she went spinning, she realized it was a little too late.

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And there we are! I changed this chapter a bit too. People are getting a lil' lazy with reviewing again. Three? Let's aim for…about seven this time, I know we've done better before.

Next Chapter: Tonks meets her parents, Harry confronts James, and Snape has an argument.

Til next time,

Thoughts and Pondering.


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